Where Do We Go Now
by Emma Winchester 424
Summary: A/U- After Sam gets out of the Cage, one phone call changes everything. Dean discovers he has a daughter. A series of one-shots and three-part case stories involving Team Free Will and a precocious mini Winchester named Natalie. It's my take on how Supernatural could have taken a different turn. Timeline bounces around for Natalie from birth to 21 years. Daughterfic!
1. Spoken Like A True Winchester

**Howdy everyone! Welcome to the first chapter of Where Do We Go Now! This is a series of one shots with my original character, Natalie Winchester. I intend to post at least once a month, but, you know, life, so no promises :) We will be jumping all over the map, with some fluff, some serious topics, and some major butt kicking of evil! Hope you enjoy!**

 **Special thanks and gratitude to Jenmm31. She helped me believe in myself enough to actually post, and she's been the best cheerleader along the way. Check out her fantastic sisfics- you will NOT be sorry- they're amazing.**

 **Well here we go! Enjoy!**

 **A/N- in this story, Dean is 32, Sam, 28. This is my own alternate universe. It takes place between seasons 5 and 6, but in my version, Sam got out of the box with his soul intact, no further damage. When Sam came knocking on Dean's door, Dean chose the hunter's life over Lisa. They broke up and never spoke again.**

 **Spoken Like a True Winchester**

Dean-32

Sam- 28

Natalie- 2 days

The rain smacked the window loudly. It had been raining for the last 4 days. The creeping grey mist seemed to cover the miserable parking lot, blotting out any chance of sun. Dean was seated in a threadbare armchair that had once had a floral pattern, but years of being motel room furniture had faded and stained most of it away. The TV was on; turned to some football game, but he didn't register it. He continued to stare out the window idly, still in shock.

When Jamie, an old flame of his from a couple months ago, had called, telling him that she needed him to come to Seattle right now, he had no idea that it would have been for this. This was way, way out of his league. Way more than any wendingo, shape shifter, or even blood sucker. He continued staring into the motel parking lot, unmoving. He didn't know how long he sat there, until a warm squirming in his arms woke him out of his stupor. He looked down. The newborn he was holding was waking up. She had been asleep for almost two hours. He found he had kept doing strange things while she slept, like checking to make sure she was breathing- just for sure. Once he had checked for the seventeenth time, he had let the little one sleep in peace, resorting to staring out the window instead. All over again, the shock of reality slapped him upside the head. He still couldn't believe that she was actually his. Natalie. Natalie Grace _Winchester,_ his daughter.

He looked uncertainly, at the baby's expression. She was realizing that she was awake, and stretching her tiny arms. Her little red fist accidently hit her cheek. She had very few motor skills, being only 2 days old, and she wrinkled her nose in displeasure. Dean's heart swelled a bit at the face she made- he had never seen anything like it before, never really being this close to a newborn, and even he had to admit it was adorable. He smiled at her, and shifted himself slightly, still panicking that every movement he made was somehow going to hurt her. He looked closely at her for any signs of discomfort. When she gave none, Dean breathed a sigh of relief.

Sam heard the noise, and turned his head away from the TV. "Hey, you doing okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm peachy," Dean said. Sam rolled his eyes. The day that Dean didn't make a smart aleck comment was the day HE would ask for extra onions and bacon on a burger. Sam stood up and walked over to them. He knelt down next to the chair, and reached out a finger to gently stroke the tiny head nestled in the crook of Dean's arm.

"She's awake?"

"Yup."

"Do you think she's hungry?"

"I don't know. Why don't you ask her?"

Sam rolled his eyes and crossed back to the couch to pick up his phone. Even in the midst of one of the most life-altering things that could ever happen to his brother, he was still a jerk. He opened the Google app, and typed in "How often do babies eat". They had pretty much lived off of Google since they had left the hospital. Dean had only been four when Sam was a baby, so he barely remembered anything about how to care for a kid, and neither of them had much reason to be around them in their line of work, so they were making this work the only way they knew how to- by doing research.

"Okay," he said, reading, "It says that a newborn eats every two to three hours." He looked up at Dean. "You fed her before she fell asleep, right?"

Dean nodded, "Yeah. Man, that formula stuff smells nasty." He looked down at Natalie. "Sorry, kiddo. I'll get you eating bacon cheeseburgers as soon as you get teeth," he whispered with a smirk. He looked back up at his little brother. "Come to think of it, I could use something to eat, too."

"I don't think either of us have eaten since yesterday," Sam said, nodding his assent. "Okay, you stay here and feed her, I'll go pick up something at the store." He picked up his tan jacket and the keys to the Impala. He was heading towards the door, when Dean stopped him.

"Whoa, whoa, hold on there," Dean said. Sam turned around.

"What?"

"Can you just..." he started, but then just stopped. Sam counted to ten in his head.

" _What?_ "

Dean gave a frustrated sigh. "Just...hold on till I get the formula mixed, okay?" Sam stared incredulously at him.

"Seriously?" he said. Dean Winchester- the big brother he looked up to, wanted to be like, admired in every way- freaking out about mixing formula? Dean didn't answer; he just shifted his weight around and refused to make eye contact with Sam. Sam shook his head.

"Fine. But you know how to do this already, you don't need me to watch."

"Shuddup." Dean walked over to Sam. "Here, take her," he said, gently lifting the baby into Sam's arms. He was trying so hard to make sure her neck was supported (Google had been VERY explicit about that one) that he ended up with his hand stuck between the crook of Sam's elbow and the baby's head. The brothers looked at each other awkwardly, then tried to extract themselves from each other.

"Hang on..."

"Wait, don't move, I'll move."

"You're going to get twisted even more if you try to move."

"Don't tell me what to do."

"Right. Because your genius got us in this in the first place."

"Sammy, I swear, the second I get my hand out of your arm, I'm going to use it to slap you." Dean finally managed to pull his hand away. "See? I told you I'd get it."

Without waiting for Sam to respond, Dean walked over towards the table littered with all kinds of baby paraphernalia. He took a deep breath and blew it out in a whoosh, then shook his shoulders and got down to business. With all the precision and care that he usually poured into making ammunition to gank the undead, he mixed up 2 ounces of baby formula. He would never say it out loud, but he'd take working with the explosives any day rather than freaking out that he was screwing up mixing some powder into some water. God, this terror was worse than flying. _Get your head out of your ass, Winchester,_ he silently scolded himself. _You can do this._

After he had tested the water for the right temperature, added it to the bottle, and shook in the formula, he inspected it closely. It LOOKED right. He held it out to Sam for confirmation. Sam nodded his patient nod, as if to say, _See? I told you so._ Dean smiled like a rock star.

"Alrighty then. Bring her on." Sam walked over, and held the baby out for him. "And don't get your hand stuck." Sam rolled his eyes and with one gently move, gracefully slid her right into Dean's arm. Dean shot Sam a cocky grin. "Now, aren't you glad I taught you how to do that?"

"Sure. I'm going to start calling you Super Nanny."

"Who?"

"I'll be back." Sam snatched up the keys and was out the door. Dean took a moment to try to figure out who or what a super nanny was, but then his attention shifted back to the bundle in his arm. She was so tiny that he could easily hold her like that, in just one arm, without panicking. He picked up the bottle and gently placed it on the infant's lips. She pulled away for a second at the strange feeling, but once she realized that the touch on her lips meant "food", she was all about it. She began sucking away at the bottle with surprising strength. Dean smiled down on her.

"That's my girl," he said, and began slowly walking around the room while she ate. His eye glanced over to the table covered in baby items again, but then he quickly turned away from it. It surprised him how much it stung, looking at those items Jamie had left them. He didn't want to think about Natalie's mother, about how on earth she could have left this precious little girl, on the very day she was born. He knew that Natalie had her tiny fingers entwined in his heart already- he just didn't understand how her mother of all people could break that bond without another thought. But what was done was done. Dean focused on Natalie now, making sure that she finished the whole bottle. He placed it down on the table. Just then, Natalie started to squirm and fuss. He bounced her gently.

"It's okay, baby girl. I've got you. I'm not going anywhere."

Sam wandered the aisles of the convenient store, randomly chucking food items into his basket. He was only half paying attention to what he was doing. His brain was still trying to cope with the completely random turn of events that this last week entailed. Out of all the things he and his brother encountered, this was, by far, the most daunting. But he knew that Dean was in this for the long haul, which meant that he was, too. He smiled at the idea- he had always liked kids, and this little girl was something special. He could tell already. That didn't mean that they didn't have a tough road to hoe, but they were going to do what they always did, which was watch out for each other. There was just one more of them to watch out for now. He smiled wider- he kind of liked that idea.

Sam went to the front counter and paid for the items, then headed out into the parking lot. Just as he shut the driver's side door, his phone started ringing. He fished it out of his pocket. He was surprised- it was Dean's number. Why on earth was Dean calling him? He pressed the answer key, and was immediately assaulted by a high pitched scream. He yanked the phone away from his ear, and tried to yell into it from a distance.

"Dean?" he hollered.

"Sam!" came the panicking voice on the other end.

"What happened? What's wrong?" Sam asked, now worried.

"I don't know! She won't stop crying!"

"Well, what's wrong with her?"

"I don't know, genius! That's why I'm calling you! Just get your ass back here, and fast!" Click. Sam stared at the phone, then threw it into the passenger seat, gunned the engine, and took off.

Several speeding ticket inducing moments later, he screeched into the motel parking lot, and ran up to the room door. Just as he was pulling out his key, the door flung open, and there was Dean, looking more scared than he had ever looked in his life. He was still holding Natalie, who was wailing her head off.

"Sammy- we've got to figure out what she wants. I can't get her to stop crying," Dean said, the panic making his voice tight. Sam shifted into crisis mode, trying not to let the emotion of the moment cloud his thinking.

"Did she get hurt?" Dean shook his head.

"I don't see how- I haven't put her down since you left." They both began examining the baby, looking for any signs of pain or stress, but other than the ear splitting cries, she seemed fine.

"Okay," Sam said, putting out his hands as if to brace himself. " So we know she's not hurt. You just fed her, right?"

"Yeah!"

"Okay, so we know she's not hungry, we can rule that out. What else makes babies cry?" Dean shrugged his shoulders wildly.

"I don't know...do you think she needs her diaper changed?"

"Good idea! Okay, lay her down on the couch, and let's check it out." Dean made his way to the couch. Sam grabbed a changing pad from the table, and laid it down for Natalie. Dean gently put her down. She didn't like that at all. Her volume intensified. Sam was flabbergasted- how could something that was the size of a football make this much noise? Dean gently reached into the baby's diaper and felt for any signs of wetness. He shook his head.

"No, that's not it, she's dry as a bone." He looked up to see Sam staring at him. "What?"

"I can't believe that you just put your hand into a diaper willingly."

"I had to check, didn't I?!"

"It's not that. It's just...wow dude, that's impressive."

"Is now really the time?!"

"Right, right! Sorry," Sam said, then tried to think of something else. "Maybe she just needs a change of atmosphere?" Dean looked at him like he had two heads.

"Great. Let's pop in the car and take her to Disneyland."

"Dean, I'm serious. Sometimes babies just need to move around, you know? Look at something different. Here, let me take her." Sam picked his niece up off the couch. She settled down upon being picked up again, but then started screaming again within seconds. Sam walked around, bouncing her gently.

"Hey sweetheart, calm down now, it's okay, calm down," he said in as gentle voice as he could manage- he was starting to panic too. She hadn't screamed like this yet, and it was seriously starting to scare him. "Maybe she's still hungry?" he asked, desperate. Dean nodded frantically.

"Yeah, maybe! On it!" With the speed and accuracy of a Navy Seal diffusing a bomb, Dean began working on a new bottle. For someone who had to have his brother watch him do this earlier, he sure nailed it now. 7 seconds later, he was pressing it into Sam's hand. Sam touched the baby's lips with the bottle topper, but she twisted away from it and continued screaming. He tried again, but she wasn't having it. The poor thing was beginning to turn red from all of her crying. Sam handed the bottle back to Dean.

"No, she's not hungry, she's not taking it," he said. "Do babies just…cry sometimes? I mean, for like, no reason?" Sam asked, completely at a loss for the next move.

"Alright, that's it. Where's my phone? I'm going to Google this," Dean said, pushing away the trash that was on the coffee table, searching for his phone. He found it, and tried to punch in his pass code, but his fingers were shaking so badly, it took him three tries. After much cursing, he finally unlocked it, frantically tying "why won't my baby stop crying" into the search engine. The damned thing took forever to load, which did nothing to help either boy's stress level. Dean squeezed his phone tightly as the stupid little circle thingy kept spinning.

"Son of a bitch!" he yelled. Sam looked at him, reproaching.

"You yelling is not going to help calm her down," he said matter of factly. Dean could have clocked him right there, but clenched his teeth, and took a deep breath instead.

"Yeah, yeah, sorry," he muttered. He looked back at his phone, where, thankfully, the search engine had finally yielded its results. "Oh, thank God. Here we go," he said, clicking on the first website he found. He began frantically scanning and reading out loud, offering his own commentary as he did so.

"Okay, it says that it is common to feel frustrated, anxious, or angry when a baby won't stop crying...yeah, no shit, Sherlock...blah blah blah, techniques to help you cope...blah blah blah...okay...don't shake the baby...really, dipshit, I never would have guessed...reach out for support...I'm trying to and you're only giving me the Dr. Phil answers...gah!" he said, throwing the phone on his bed, reaching his limit. "This thing is useless!"

Sam walked over to Dean's bed, and sat down with Natalie, still screaming, in his arms. "Maybe she's just tired. Should we try laying her down maybe?" he asked. Dean threw up his hands.

"Yes, yes, whatever, I just have to help her stop crying," he said, his voice still tight. Sam laid Natalie down on her back. Upon being laid down again, she waved her arms in displeasure, and, even though they didn't think it was possible, upped the volume. Dean shook his head.

"No, she doesn't like that! Turn her over, maybe she doesn't want to sleep on her back."

"Isn't that bad for babies?" Sam asked.

"How the hell should I know?" Dean responded. He gently turned her over, so she was laying on her front, with her head turned out. He reached out to stroke her head, and the volume of crying dropped a notch. Dean looked at Sam with a look that suggested he had found the treasure of El Dorado.

"Look, she likes that!" He gently stroked her cheek with his finger, and for two seconds, she actually stopped crying. When she picked it up again, it was, again, slightly less volume than before, but her cries were still very real. Dean tried stroking her cheek again, but she continued crying her little heart out. Dean's heart dropped to his feet. He didn't know what to do next. He had no idea how to help her. He finally looked up at Sam.

Sam had been watching the whole exchange, but looked up at Dean the moment Dean looked up at him. He was shocked to see a single tear sliding down his brother's cheek.

"Sammy- I can't get her to stop crying. I can't give her what she needs. What kind of father am I going to be if I can't even get her to stop crying?" he asked, the fear ripping though his voice. Sam was stunned. He had never seen Dean so vulnerable before. Sam opened his mouth to respond, but Dean shook his head, not wanting an answer. He reached out again, looking at his daughter. Out of desperation and the need to be trying to comfort her, began gently patting Natalie on the back.

All of the sudden, the loudest belch either of them had ever heard poured forth from the baby's tiny mouth. Silence followed.

In a moment of stunned disbelief, Sam and Dean, once again, looked at each other at the exact same time.

"She was..." Dean began.

"She just had...gas?" Sam said.

"I guess so?" Dean looked back down. Natalie had stopped crying, and her little face was slowly going from red back to newborn pink. She gurgled contentedly, and almost seemed to sigh with relief. Dean let out a surprised guffaw, and looked back at Sam, wild joy spreading across his face.

"It was just gas!" he said, never thinking he would be so elated about a belch. He patted her again, and another tiny little burp followed.

"Ha! That's my girl! Spoken like a true Winchester!" Dean said, his cocky grin back in place. Sam rested his head back and let out a relieved laugh of his own.

"Okay, so now we know, burp her after feeding," he said, thinking that something was seriously lacking in the Google website for that NOT to have been mentioned. He felt like he had just run a marathon. He looked back at Dean, who was smiling from ear to ear, and once again, stroking Natalie's head. She seemed to enjoy Dean's touch, making delighted, adorable baby noises.

"Hey," he said. Dean looked up at him. "Just for the record, you're going to be an awesome father." Dean swallowed hard, then nodded once, and looked Sam right in the eye.

"Thanks," he said with a smile, and focused his attention back on the baby, who seemed to be falling asleep. Sam smiled, and then noticed Dean's phone behind him on the bed where Dean had thrown it. He clicked on the phone, and the website that Dean had been searching popped back up. He scrolled down to the bottom, where it read, "Has this been helpful?"

"Not at all," Sam muttered, pressing the button.


	2. Cookie Crumbs

**Hello everyone! So sorry if you're getting a second update of the same story- I accidentally posted without checking it yesterday, my bad! Anyways, welcome back! Thank you for all the favorites, follows, and reviews. I love each and every one of them! Please feel free to leave me a review with things you'd be interested in reading about with Natalie!**

 **A huge massive thank you and shout out to my girl, Jenmm31. As I've said before, she's my own personal Castiel. You can't have her :) Seriously though, she's a brilliantly talented writer who has been helping me to get my own silly ideas out here. If you want an amazing sisfic, go check out her stories- they're on my favorites page. They are so worth it!**

 **In this story, Natalie is 5 years old. If you feel so inclined, read and review, but most importantly, ENJOY!**

The spring winds blew a chill through the trees, stirring up the remaining leaves that recently had been buried underneath the snow. Despite the fact that snow had been on the ground only a few weeks ago, the park certainly had a plethora of visitors. It was March, and it was obvious that Mother Nature hadn't forgotten the recent cold of the winter. Sam pulled the edges of his tan jacket in closer. His eyes searched the grounds for his niece again, making sure she was keeping her coat on. She wasn't too hard to spot- he just had to look for the kid that looked like a Pink Tasmanian Devil.

Sam watched as Natalie tore around the playground, looking like she was hopping up on methamphetamines, racing around in her cute little pink jacket. He had to laugh- man, this kid had way too much energy. She was wearing poor Bobby out, now that she was staying mostly with him. He and Dean had pulled in to South Dakota on Friday morning, and they surprised her by picking her up from her kindergarten class. When she saw them, she had screeched like a banshee and almost knocked another kid over in her rush to get to them, jumping right into Dean's arms, and then barely waiting a moment before catapulting herself into Sam's. Sam found himself snickering at the memory of the surprised teachers' faces when they saw her do that. For a five year old, she was incredibly agile. She had talked non-stop from that moment until Dean had put her to bed, wanting to fill them in on every miniscule detail that they had missed over the last two weeks. By the time she was finally down and asleep, all of their ears were ringing from the excited babble. They had resoundly agreed to try to let her burn off some of her energy the next day. Sam volunteered to take her to the local park while Dean and Bobby restocked their ammo and cleaned the arsenal. Besides, Dean wanted to pick up a new shot gun, and taking a five year old to a gun store wasn't exactly smiled upon.

Sam watched as Natalie climbed up the slide- backwards. He smiled- such a "Dean" thing for her to do. Playing by nobody's rules but her own. When she got to the top, she turned around to see if her uncle was watching. When she caught his eye, she threw out her chest proudly.

"Didja see me run up the slide, Unca Sam?" she yelled, way louder than she needed to. He smiled at her and nodded. "I owned that like a BOSS, " she announced. He literally laughed out loud at that one, and wondered to himself where she had picked up that particular catch phrase. She had this uncanny habit of picking up things that people said around her, and using the references in the strangest ways. It was just one of the more adorable aspects of her larger than life personality. She nodded to herself, satisfied, and turned away, climbing deep into the tunnels of the plastic jungle gym. Sam stretched his arm along the back of the bench. This was nice- just being a real person, having a day off, watching his niece playing. He wished that there could be more of this, but he and Dean both knew there was no way that could ever happen.

They had wrestled with this decision all year. Natalie had started kindergarten last fall, and they were determined that she would not have to move around, constantly changing schools like they had to when they were growing up. They had finally come to the conclusion to let her stay with Bobby while she got an education. Bobby loved her like she was his own actual granddaughter- even going so far as to let her call him "Pops". None of them really knew where she picked that name up- she had just started calling him that one day. When asked about it, she shrugged and said, "He's not really Grandpa, so he's Pops." They hadn't been willing to argue with that logic, so she continued calling him by the affectionate name. However, any time Dean or Sam tried calling Bobby that, they got a smack on the back of the head from Pops himself. Oh well.

They had tried to stay as close to home as they could, but every week, someone called with a case, or an "unexplainable" tragedy happened in the news, and the boys were back on the road. It was tearing Dean up to be away from his daughter, but the compulsion and drive to rid the world of evil wasn't something you could just set aside lightly. They made damn sure they were there for every holiday, and as many weekends as they could manage, but it wasn't easy. After an initially rocky start to the school year, Natalie was settling in to her class. She still came home every day declaring that school was stupid, but at least she wasn't kicking and screaming like she had her first week. That had been rough. Her teacher said she was now doing fine, but she seemed bored and uninterested by the whole "school" thing. She was much more interested in running around and learning about the "Real Life Stuff" as she called it- all the cases and lore that Dean and Sam worked on.

They had never lied to her about what they did. She knew they fought evil creatures, and she knew they were working to help make the world a safer, better place. They obviously kept most of the details about the actual cases to themselves, but she was young enough to not push for specifics, not just yet. Sam knew both he and Dean were dreading the day when that changed. His eyes scanned the jungle gym again, looking for her. He found her, but was surprised when he did. She had climbed down off the jungle gym, clearly drawn by something else. She was standing stock still, staring off into the distance. He followed her entranced gaze to a young woman on the other side of the park, who was playing catch with a golden retriever. His head turned back to Natalie, who was still staring like she was seeing the sun for the first time. Her little mouth was agape as she watched the woman throw a red Frisbee, and the dog tearing across the field to catch it in its mouth. Natalie slowly turned her gaze to Sam, as if to say, _Are you seeing this?_ When she saw that he was once again looking at her, she raised up one hand and pointed at the dog.

"Unca Sam, lookit!" she said breathlessly, and her eyes slid back to the goldie. The woman was laughing, scratching the dog behind the ears, and the dog was jumping up and down, thrilled with the play time. Before Sam knew it, Natalie took off, running towards them.

"Whoa, whoa! Natalie, stop!" he yelled after her, but it was too late. He jumped up and began jogging after her. _Damn, she's fast for such a little girl,_ he thought to himself. He actually had to start running to try to get to her before she reached the dog, but there was no way he was going to make it. By the time he caught up to her, she had her hands deep in the fur coat of the beautiful dog, with the woman, standing next to them, petting the dog's head.

"Natalie!" he scolded as he came up next to them. "You know better than to run away from me like that!" Natalie didn't pay him the slightest bit of attention- she was completely absorbed in her new found friend. Sam's gaze went to the young woman who obviously owned the dog.

"I'm so sorry, I hope she's not bothering you," he apologized.

"No, not at all!" the woman said, laughing. Just then, Sam noticed how very attractive the young woman was. Probably around 5'10", with her long blonde hair pulled back into a low ponytail. "I'm Corinne," she said, holding out her beautifully french-manicured hand.

"Sam," he said, taking her hand and shaking it.

"Is this cute little girl yours?" she asked.

Sam smiled. "No, she's my niece. This is Natalie." He squatted down next to the child. "Say hi," he instructed softly.

Natalie looked up from the dog, and flashed Corinne her huge smile. "Hi!" she squeaked excitedly. "I really like your puppy!"

"I can tell," Corinne said, giggling. "His name is Harvey."

"Harvey," Natalie repeated, twisting the name around in her mouth, deciding if she liked it or not. She decided that she did, and she looked back up at Corinne. "I like that name!" she declared.

Corinne laughed at the little girl's openness. "Well, thank you! I like your name too!" Natalie giggled once, and went back to playing with Harvey, who was clearly thrilled to be playing with someone his size. Corinne looked at Sam.

"It's awfully nice that you brought your niece out to the park, Sam," she said. He smiled.

"Well, it was either let her run around the park and try to burn off some of her hyperactivity, or let her destroy the house," he joked. Corinne laughed again, and he felt just a little bit taller. "She's a great kid, but I have no idea where all that energy comes from."

"I'm a school teacher- believe me, I understand hyper kids," she commented wryly. Now it was his turn to laugh. They watched Natalie play with the beautiful golden retriever, the little girl giggling and shrieking as the dog in turn played back with her, jumping away and barking happily, then running back and licking her face. Sam turned to Corinne again.

"How long have you had Harvey?" he asked, in what he hoped was a smooth, nonchalant way.

"About two years now. After my boyfriend and I broke up, one of my school teacher friends suggested that I get a dog to help fill the void. And it's worked wonders. Harvey got me through it, and I'm definitely ready to get back out there. You know, join the dating world again," she said, batting her eyelashes. Sam choked a bit, but tried to cover it with a hasty remark.

"Uh, yeah...yeah, that's um...that's a really good thing." Corinne arched her eyebrow and suppressed a smile. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she retrieved it.

"Oh, shoot, I have to leave- I have a thing I have to go to tonight," she said, looking like she actually did in fact regret having to leave. She tilted her head coyly at Sam. "Maybe I'll see you tomorrow? I'll be sure to bring Harvey."

Sam sent up a quick and silent prayer that his flustered tongue would actually respond intelligently. "Um...yeah...that'd be...great. I mean, like great, like...It'd be great to see you again. Here. At the park." So much for that prayer.

She smiled, charmed by his awkwardness. She turned to Natalie. "Hey, sweetie- thanks for playing with Harvey. He really liked you, I can tell."

Natalie's eyes went wide. "Really? He really really did?" she asked, as if she couldn't believe it. Corinne nodded importantly.

"Sure did. Maybe you could bring your uncle back to the park tomorrow and you could play with Harvey again." Natalie's mouth dropped open, and she squealed with delight. She wrapped her arms around Sam's leg.

"Can we Unca Sam? Can we can we can we?" she begged. He chuckled at her persistence.

"We'll see, Bug," he said, then looked back up at Corinne.

Corinne laughed. "What did you call her?"

Sam blushed and smiled. "Bug. It's just a nickname I've been calling her for years."

"That is adorable," she said, and Sam's insides melted. "It was so nice to meet you Sam. I really hope to see you tomorrow," she said, giving him the eye. He nodded vigorously.

"Yeah, because it...yeah, um...tomorrow..." he finished lamely. Corinne just smiled and jogged away with Harvey. He watched her go, oblivious to the little person who had detattched herself from his leg and was now bouncing around in excitement. _Real smooth, Winchester. Real smooth,_ he thought to himself. When Corinne was no longer in sight, his attention shifted back to the hyper five year old jumping up and down at his feet. He suddenly remembered that he had to take care of the little chase scene she had put him through.

"Natalie," he said in a stern voice. She immediately stopped jumping upon hearing his tone. She looked solemnly into his face. "You do not go running off like you did when you saw the puppy. That's not safe. You know better than to do that," he chastised her.

Natalie bit her lower lip, and she mumbled, "I'm sorry, Unca Sam. I won't run off again."

"Good," he said, ruffling her hair. He reached down and took her hand. "I think it's about time we went home, don't you?" He gave her hand a gentle tug, and began to walk back to the car with her in tow. Sam noticed the breeze was picking up, and it was getting colder. Yes, definitely time to get back inside.

"Unca Sam?" Natalie said suddenly.

"What's up?"

"I want a puppy."

Oh God.

Sam stopped in his tracks. He must have really been out of it while talking to Corinne. He hadn't noticed how attached Natalie had gotten to Harvey, so quickly. This was bad. Normally, when a little kid said they wanted something that it wasn't a good idea for them to have, usually you could just distract them for a little while, and they would forget all about it. Not so with this kid. When she decided she wanted something, she was bound and determined to get it, come hell or high water. She had more will power than most of the grown men Sam knew. Not only was she a Winchester, she was Dean Winchester's daughter. That automatically put her into a whole new category of stubborn. They all remembered, all too well, when she had decided to start dressing herself at the age of three. Every single morning for a solid month had begun with a tornado of children's clothing, everything from pink socks to tiny Metallica shirts flying through the air. And she flat out refused help any help, even when she got her head stuck in one of the legs of her pants (Sam still for the life of him couldn't figure out how that one happened). Between that and School Gate (as they now called her first week of kindergarten), they had learned that she was a stubborn, determined little girl. Sam knew he had one chance to nip this "puppy thing" in the bud, and he begged himself not to mess it up.

He started walking again, holding tight to her hand. "Well, sweetheart, I'm sorry, but I don't think that's going to be able to happen."

"Why not?" she asked innocently.

"Well, for one thing, puppies require a lot of care and maintenance."

"What's maintenance?"

"It means you have to feed them, play with them, and walk them all the time."

"I could do that!"

"No, remember, you've got school. You can't stay home and take care of a puppy when you're in school."

"Maybe Pops can help."

Sam shook his head. "No, Bobby is getting too old to have to take care of a dog." He looked quickly down at her. "But don't tell him I said that."

"I still think I could do it."

"Natalie, a puppy just isn't a good idea, sweetie."

"Yes it is. I want one, please," she said, turning her biggest smile on him. Sam sighed. He stopped walking, knelt down once again to look Natalie in the eye, and pulled her right in front of him.

"Listen sweetheart. You can't get a puppy. I'm sorry, but the answer is no." She furrowed her brow for a moment, appearing to think deeply. Sam stared into her face, trying to figure out what she was thinking- whether or not she was going to listen to him, or start plotting to get her way. She finally unwrinkled her forehead, and looked him back in the eye.

"Okay," she said, finally. He stood up, took her hand again, relieved that she had actually capitulated. They were almost to the car, when she piped up again.

"Then I'll just ask Daddy."

Dammit.

When they pulled up to the house, Sam had barely put the car in park when Natalie scrambled out of the backseat. Her eyes immediately began scanning the property, but she didn't see the Impala, which meant her daddy wasn't home yet. She sighed, but then realized that maybe Bobby would help her on her goal of puppy ownership. She sprinted into the house. Sam watched her tear up the front porch. He had also noticed that Dean wasn't back yet, and he breathed a sigh of relief. His brother was going to be none-too-pleased about Natalie's new obsession. This gave him a chance to think, to try to formulate a plan to get this idea out of her head before Dean got home.

By the time Sam had gotten through the front door, Natalie had shed her coat on the living room floor, found Bobby, crawled into his lap, and was talking a mile a minute about their adventures in the park. Sam picked up the tiny pink coat with his bitch face firmly planted on- geez, she was forgetting all of her manners being here. He walked into the kitchen where Bobby had parked his wheelchair, and overheard Natalie telling him about their experience. She was currently describing her epic climb up the slide.

"...and then there was this really nice lady, and her name was Corinne, and she had a really pretty puppy, and its name was Harvey, and I want one, please." She sat up in Bobby's lap, looking into his face expectantly. The sudden halt of her words startled the older gentleman. He did a double take, and tried to latch onto the last thing she said- it was really hard to keep up with her sometimes.

"There was... a puppy?" he asked, confused. Natalie rolled her eyes in scornful five year old fashion.

"Yes, Pops, I just said that! It was the prettiest puppy in the whole wide world! The lady who had the puppy let me pet him and play with him. And we even played fetch and it was the most fun ever! And I would really like a puppy, now, please."

Bobby's eyes swung to Sam standing in the doorway. Sam just heaved a big sigh. He didn't even need to look at the old man to know that he was getting the evil eye from him. Bobby's attention turned back to Natalie.

"Well, hate to break it to you kiddo, but there won't be any puppies anytime soon around here," he said, in his gruff yet trying to be gentle way. Natalie nodded knowingly.

"Yeah, that's what Unca Sam said. So I'm going to ask Daddy instead."

"And what makes you think your daddy is going to say yes when both your uncle and I have said no?"

"Because I want the puppy for a friend. I don't have any."

This time, Sam definitely caught the evil glare radiating from Bobby. Bobby had been taking care of Natalie since September, and he knew damn well how stubborn she was, how delicate this situation could truly become, and how badly Sam had screwed up. Sam cleared his throat, and walked over to them, plucking Natalie from Bobby's lap. "Hey Bug, I think it's nap time," he announced. Natalie wrinkled her nose. She didn't like nap time, but she also knew better than to fight him on it. She wrapped her arms around Sam's neck, and plunked her chin into his shoulder resignedly. He smiled at her gesture, and looked at Bobby. "I'll be right back," he said.

Bobby's glare hadn't shifted one iota. "You better be," he threatened. Sam's insides quaked for a split second, then he turned around, taking Natalie up the stairs. After a few short moments of trying to get her to lay down while she told him all about her name options for her new puppy, and how her new puppy was going to be so pretty, and all the tricks she was going to teach her new puppy, Sam finally got her quiet and still, and he exited the room quickly. He made his way back to the kitchen, where Bobby was sitting, still glaring.

"Yeah, I know," Sam said before Bobby could start in on him, He felt himself deflating under the wilting glare, trying to stem the stream of swear words that he knew the old man was about to send his way.

"How the hell did she get this notion in her brain?" Bobby hissed. "Were you just too busy looking at the pretty girl on the other end of the damn dog to notice how attached she was getting?" he scolded. Sam shoved his hands in his pocket and looked away, basically confirming what Bobby had just said. Bobby shook his head in annoyance. "Idjit," he growled.

"Look, I'm sorry," Sam said. Bobby's eyes narrowed.

"It ain't me you got to be apologizing to, boy. You've now got a little girl upstairs who's going to be heartbroken when it finally sinks in that she's not getting a dog, and your brother is going to be pissed as hell at you for breaking that little heart."

Sam nodded miserably. "I know," he said. "I tried explaining it to her, I told her every time on the way home that it wasn't going to happen, but you know her..."

Bobby nodded ruefully and finished Sam's thought. "Once she gets an idea in her brain, God help whoever stands in her way." He exhaled in a huff. "Well, you're gonna have to explain to Dean all about this, you know that."

"Yeah, don't remind me," Sam said, turning to look out of the window. "Where is Dean, anyway?"

"Picking up a new sawed-off a couple towns over. He should be back in an hour or so." Sam nodded again, but stayed silent. What the hell was he going to tell his brother?

Later that afternoon, Dean was driving down the highway, the windows rolled down, singing along to his favorite AC/DC cassette tape. He had a new sawed-off in his trunk, and all evening to spend with his kid- he was pretty damn happy about life in general right now. He glanced at his watch. He figured Sam had gotten Natalie down for a nap- well, he hoped that Sam had gotten Natalie down for a nap- and she should be waking up pretty soon. He stepped on the gas pedal, urging his Baby to go faster. He had really missed seeing Natalie, and it had only been their need for new supplies that had kept him from taking her to the park today. But that was okay- tonight was going to be his night. He'd pick her up, they'd go get her favorite dinner (grilled cheese and onion rings), and he planned on watching a movie with her. They had never really gotten to do that together, and he had the perfect movie in mind. Both Bobby and Sam disagreed with him- they thought she far was too young for Star Wars, but he knew his kid- she was going to love it. He pulled up to the old house, and got out of the car. He walked inside to find a somber Sam and Bobby waiting for him in the living room.

"Hello, boys," he greeted, not picking up on the melancholy right away. He grinned at both of them. When they didn't grin back, he stopped in his tracks.

"What's wrong? Where's Natalie?" he asked, his eyes immediately scanning for danger. Sam shook his head.

"She's upstairs, napping."

"You got her down for a nap? Nice job, Sammy," Dean said, his eyes landing on Sam, and walking further into the room. He plopped down on the couch, and waited for his brother to continue. Sam crossed his arms over his chest, and looked uncomfortable. Dean's eyes were amused as he watched both Sam and Bobby shift nervously.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I interrupt your girl talk?" he teased. Sam rolled his eyes, and Dean grinned again at having successfully annoyed his brother.

"Sam got himself into a little situation today," Bobby said. Dean's focus shifted to Bobby.

"Oh really? What kind of situation?" he asked. Bobby glared at Sam, which surprised Dean- it was usually himself on the receiving end of that look. Sam shifted uncomfortably again.

"Well...we have a bit of a problem. Natalie has an idea now...that she wants a puppy," Sam stammered. Dean waited, but that seemed to be all Sam was going to say. He cleared his throat.

"Okay. So a five year old said that she wants a puppy. You're right- we should probably alert the media."

Sam rolled his eyes again, then focused back on Dean. "No, you don't get it- she's already obsessed with the idea."

"Yeah, no, I totally see the problem. We should probably…I don't know…put a Twit out on that."

Sam stopped short. "A what?" he asked, perplexed.

Dean halted in his insults, and tried to look like he knew what he had just tried to reference. "You know….that thing that everyone does on their phones. Where they spill all of the crap that's going on in their lives and then insult each other?"

Sam narrowed his eyes in confusion, trying to figure out what the hell Dean was talking about. "Wait…do you mean Twitter?"

"Yeah."

"Dean, they're called Tweets, not Twits."

"You're a Twit."

Bobby reached over and smacked the back of Dean's head. "Listen to what your brother is trying to tell you, ya idjit." Dean mouthed the word "Ow", and rubbed the back of his head, looking annoyed. Sam tried again.

"You know how she gets when she's decided that she wants something. And she wants this- bad."

Dean's eyes widened as Sam's words sunk in. He held up his hand. "Hang on. I've only been gone like 3 hours, and already, she's got a new obsession over getting a puppy? And it's gotten that bad, that quickly?" Both Sam and Bobby nodded. Dean exhaled loudly. "Well, shit."

"Exactly," Sam said, glad that Dean was finally taking this seriously. Dean fixed his brother with a stare.

"What happened?" he demanded. Sam opened his mouth, but Bobby interrupted him.

"Sammy decided to take more interest in the opposite sex this afternoon than pay attention to his niece," he growled. Sam shot Bobby a look, annoyed that he had just been thrown directly under the bus. Dean's eyes narrowed further.

"Really? A chick? Seriously dude?" he asked derogatorily. Sam threw up his hands.

"I'm sorry, alright?!"

Dean shook his head. "Great time to decide to grow a pair there, kiddo."

"Natalie saw this lady playing with her dog at the park, and she apparently fell in love. I was just talking to Corinne- the woman-" Sam said for clarification. "Natalie was right there the entire time, playing with the dog. it was only like five minutes. I didn't think she was going to walk away wanting one," he said, trying to defend himself.

Dean thought for a moment, then grunted, "Was the chick at least hot?" Sam hemmed and hawed, but eventually answered up.

"Yeah, she was."

"Well, I honestly can't blame you there," Dean said, knowing he would have probably done the exact same thing had the situation been reversed. He glanced up the stairs towards where his daughter was sleeping. "Did you try to talk her out of it?"

Sam and Bobby both nodded. "We both did," Bobby said. "She's a stubborn little goat. Wonder where she gets that from." Dean glared sideways at the old man, but he knew he was right. "She also said that she needed a puppy as a friend, because she didn't have any."

Dean heaved a sigh, and ran a hand over his head. "She's going to be all kinds of broken up over this one," he said bitterly. Sam stepped in closer.

"I know, and I'm really sorry, man. I just don't know what to do here."

Dean shook his head. "I know. This is going to suck. But she's a tough cookie- she'll be okay." Suddenly, Bobby cleared his throat uncomfortably, and looked away. Both Winchesters looked at him. Bobby looked like he was rolling something over in his mind, unsure of whether to tell them or not. He finally looked up at the both of them.

"Well, I don't rightly know about that," he stated, hesitantly.

"What do you mean?" Dean pressed, his blood pressure starting to rise. The fact that Bobby may know something about Natalie that Dean didn't did not sit well with him. Bobby shifted around uncomfortably again before answering.

"Look, I didn't want to tell you this, but...well, that kid's not as tough as she pretends to be. She bucks up real good for school because she knows she has to, but I know for a fact that she hates it- hates every damn second of it. And every time you two leave on another case, well...that's when the waterworks start."

Dean's lips parted as he inhaled sharply. "She cries when we leave?"

Bobby gave a half hearted shrug. "Sort of. She never wants me to see her cry- she has this real thing against crying, she just doesn't like to do it." Dean and Sam both nodded- they knew that one. "But she immediately races up to her room as soon as you've pulled out of the driveway, and she doesn't come down for about an hour or so. And when she does come down, her face is all red and swollen. She can't hide that, no matter how hard she tries."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look. They had no idea that she was getting so upset every time they left.

"I didn't want to tell you because I knew that it would only make things worse," Bobby said apologetically.

Dean shook his head. "No, I'd rather know. I mean, I get why you didn't tell me. It just...sucks." Dean dropped his head into his hands. His daughter's heart was breaking, breaking all the time, and it was all his fault. Dean chewed on his tongue for a second, before looking up at Sam.

"Dude. I can't keep doing this," he said, his voice breaking. Sam bowed his head- he knew how Dean felt. He also knew that Dean felt it much more strongly than he did.

"I know," he said in a low voice. "But I don't see what other choice we've got. She needs her best chance, and that's..."

"Staying here, yeah, I know that. You don't have to tell me again," Dean interrupted bitterly. He rubbed both hands on the back of his head. Even though Sam was right, he knew that he wasn't going to stand for this much longer. He just couldn't be away from his baby girl- he just couldn't. But that was a problem he couldn't solve today. As for the problem that was right in front of him...a sudden blessed brainwave hit him.

Dean suddenly stood up. "I have an idea." He looked at Bobby and Sam. "I don't know what we're going to do about this whole school thing, but I think I know what to do about this dog business. I'm going to go grab us some dinner- let Natalie sleep until I get back, okay?" He grabbed his keys and raced out the front door.

About half an hour later, he walked quietly upstairs, and deposited the small bag outside of her door. He opened it just a crack, and saw her kicking her blankets off- a sign that she was waking up. _Perfect timing,_ he thought to himself.

"Hey Sleeping Beauty," he called out softly. Her eyes popped open upon hearing his voice, and she turned her head sleepily towards the door. When she saw him standing there, she gave him her biggest smile.

"Hi Daddy," she said, yawning.

"Can I come in?" he asked. She nodded vigorously, and started rubbing the sleep from her eyes. He bounded into the room and jumped on top of her bed, bouncing her up as the force of his weight hit the box springs. She shrieking and laughed, now fully awake thanks to his cannon ball dive onto her bed. She clambered out of her blankets and sat up with her legs tucked underneath her.

"Did Unca Sam tell you about the puppy, Daddy?" she asked, with no preamble whatsoever. Dean closed his eyes and smiled for a moment. He really hoped this persistence would pay off later in life for her.

"He did. And we need to talk about that, kiddo." Natalie waved him off with one tiny hand.

"I know that he said that I couldn't have one..."

"And he's right."

"But I think that I could."

Dean sat up and scooted closer to her. "Listen, squirt," he said, making sure she was giving him her full attention. Her wide green eyes looked directly at him, like she was seeing his soul. That didn't make this any easier. "The thing with puppies is- they're for other people."

Natalie's face wrinkled in confusion. "For other people? What do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, other people who live differently than we do. You know, the boring life," he said, poking her in the stomach. She giggled- it tickled when he did that.

"We have a life where we can't always have the same things as the boring people. But you know what?" he said, leaning into her like he was sharing a secret.

"What?" she said with five year old wonder.

"That means that we get to have other stuff that the boring people don't get. We get to go all over the country, and we get to help people, and we get pie. Lots and lots of pie." She giggled again, knowing how much he loved his pie. "And- we get to be tough. Sometimes, not having the things that the boring people have makes us strong. We get to be so strong- stronger than anyone else in the world. We get to be tough cookies. And you, kiddo, are one tough cookie." She beamed at his praise.

"But, I'm really sorry, that means we don't get puppies." Her little face fell.

"Oh," she said, quietly. Her eyes dropped onto the comforter of the bed, and she began chewing her lower lip, which Dean knew meant she was trying not to cry. He hurried on.

"We do, however, get super cool TOY puppies though." She lifted her head back up, looking inquisitively at him. He stood up, walked back to the door, and retrieved the plastic bag he had left outside earlier. He brought it over to the bed, sat down, and carefully opened it. He then pulled out a stuffed golden retriever puppy dog. Natalie's mouth dropped open- she had never seen anything like that before in her life. She just sat there, staring at it with her mouth hanging open.

Dean was watching her face, not sure if this was flying or not. "Well?" he asked. "Do you like it?" She reached out towards it, but then quickly withdrew her hands. She looked Dean full in the face. He had never seen her green eyes so wide before.

"It's mine? All mine?" she whispered, like she couldn't believe it.

"Uh- huh," he said, proudly. Her attention shift back to the toy. She reached out slowly, like if she moved too fast, the puppy would disappear. She finally was brave enough to stretch her right hand out and stroke the silky head. She gasped, withdrew her hand, and looked up at Dean once again.

"It's really really soft!" she said, her little voice squeaking in delight.

"Yeah it is!"

"And it's so pretty!" She finally reached both hands out and cupped the puppy's face, staring into its eyes. Dean chuckled at her halting movements- of all the moments to be quiet and reserved, he sure as hell didn't think this was going to be that moment for her.

"Hey- I'm pretty sure this puppy needs a hug," he said gently. She gave a sudden squeal, grabbed the toy, and pulled it into her chest, hugging it tightly.

"Whoa there tiger, don't squeeze all the stuffing out!" Dean joked. Natalie gave a delighted laugh, then asked another question.

"What's its name?"

"You get to decide."

"All by myself?"

"Yup."

"Hmmm," she said, thinking. "Is it a boy puppy or a girl puppy?"

"You get to pick that too."

"Wow," she said, her five year old mind blown.

"If it's a girl, you could name it Samantha. After your uncle Sam. Because, you know, he's a girl," Dean said matter-of-factly. Natalie giggled again.

"Daddy!" she said, scolding him. Dean just shrugged and smiled. He watched his daughter think for another moment.

"It's a boy puppy, and his name is Tufty," she declared.

"That's a cool name, squirt. Where did you come up with that?" Dean asked.

She shrugged. "He's a tough cookie, just like me. And he's my new friend. So his name is Tufty!" Dean grinned, and reached out and ruffled her hair. She responded by launching herself into his arms, and planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek. "Thank you Daddy. I love him!"

"You're welcome, baby girl. Now how about you two tough cookies come downstairs? Food is here."

"Okay!" Natalie said, bounding off the bed, with Tufty tightly in her grip. She beamed at her new puppy, and gave it another hug. Dean was thrilled to his core.

"Guess what I got for dinner," he said, going down the stairs, watching carefully that she didn't fall, seeing as her hands and eyes were now overtaken by the dog.

"Grilled cheese and onion rings!"

"And the lady wins!"

"Score!" she said, sounding just like a miniature version of him.

"And guess what else? You and I are going to watch a movie together tonight."

"What movie?"

"It's called Star Wars. A New Hope, to be exact."

"What's Star Wars about?"

"It's only one of the greatest movies of all time. Super cool space battles, robots, light sabers."

"What's a light saber?"

"A sword that you can fight with, only it's made out of light."

"That. Sounds. AWESOME!"

"And it is."

"Are Unca Sam and Pops going to watch too?"

Dean shrugged. "Bobby might, but I don't know about your Uncle Sam. He's probably not tough enough to handle it." They reached the bottom of the stairs, and Natalie ran into the kitchen where Bobby and Sam were waiting to see how Dean's idea had gone over.

"Lookit the new puppy that Daddy got for me!" she said, holding out the stuffed toy for inspection. Sam's eyes sought Dean's, and when Dean gave him the nod that everything was okay, Sam heaved a sigh of relief.

"That's real nice, there, kid," Bobby said in his gruff manner, and gave her a rare smile. Sam nodded at her, agreeing.

"See? I told you that all I had to do was ask Daddy," she said smugly. Before any grown up in the room could jump on that little comment, she continued.

"And we're gonna watch a movie tonight too! But Unca Sam, Daddy said you're not tough enough to handle it."

Sam looked annoyed. "Oh, yeah? And why is that?" he asked Natalie, but his eyes glared at Dean.

"'Cause you're a girl." Sam's face switched to full on bitch mode. Dean just smiled proudly and pointed at Natalie.

"Now that's my kid."


	3. I Know

**Hello all you wonderful Supernatural Fans! Happy Season 11 Premier Day!**

 **Thank you all for the follows and favorites! You make my little hunter's heart happy. Please let me know if there is anything you're interested in reading about with Natalie and the Gang!**

 **As always, massive thanks to Jenmm31 for her amazing suggestions and encouragement. Girl, I couldn't do this without you! Go check out her wonderful sis-fic stories. And when you have read them all, let me know if you want to join the Kate Fan Club. I am President. :)**

 **So here we go! Please read and review, and most of all, ENJOY!**

A/N- Natalie is 8 in this story

Disclaimer- I don't own Supernatural- I'm just playing in their sandbox. I do own Natalie.

The mid-afternoon sun beat down on Dean's neck as he trudged back to the motel room, carrying what he estimated to be about every piece of laundry that the three of them owned and weren't currently wearing. They hadn't been able to stay in any one place recently long enough to even sneak a load in here and there, and unless they wanted to go shopping, it was definitely laundry day. Mostly thanks to their need for clean clothes, they had finally decided to take it easy, lay low for a couple days, and just catch up on life.

Ever since Sam and Dean made the decision to home school Natalie, keeping her on the road with them, they had been struggling, trying to find a pattern that worked. Having a child with them was certainly a challenge, but it had already proven far better than the alternative, not just for her, but for all of them. They tried leaving her with Bobby for a while, just so she could start school. Even though she loved Bobby, she had absolutely hated being tied down in one location, and Dean hated being away from her all the time. They had tried a year of kindergarten in a public school, which was an unmitigated disaster. After many tears, and a rather impressive presentation from Natalie on why school was stupid (impressive owing to the fact that she was six at the time and using Power Point), Dean had decided to pull her out of public school, and keep her with them. They had purchased all the books and materials they needed to have Sam home school her, while Dean took over her hunter's training, and they hit the road with a first grader in tow. She was now at the age of eight, at the third grade level, and progressing nicely in all areas. She was much happier now as well, which made the boys much happier too.

Since Sam was more of the teacher and Dean the homework enforcer, it had been Dean at the library the majority of the time, doing most of the research on their hunting cases. He was quickly getting tired of being stuck in a dingy room under fluorescent lighting day in and day out. Besides, he missed hanging out with his kid. However, since they were laying low for a bit, Sam was taking his turn at the library, basically updating their dad's journal with any new information he could find. That left Dean on laundry duty, but that also meant time with Natalie. He was willing to make that trade any day.

He managed to wrangle open the beat up door to their motel room. It was difficult without dropping the canvas bag he was holding, but, like the rock star he was, he made it into the room. He was about to announce how awesome he was, having made the perfect laundry run, when he noticed the one purple sock that had fallen out of the top of the mesh bag he was holding. Cursing to himself, he darted down quickly to pick it up, trying to check to see if Natalie noticed, but she was absorbed in the very boisterous cartoon that was blaring out of the small TV. His eyes narrowed a bit- _she better have her homework done,_ he thought to himself- but decided to pursue that later.

"Just made the perfect laundry run," he announced loudly. She turned her head to look at her dad. He hoisted the bag, complete with the sock that she hadn't noticed he dropped, and she smiled, clapping enthusiastically. He played along, nodding and flashing his grin like he had just won an Oscar, even taking a small bow. She giggled at his silliness, which caused him to ham it up even more, pretending like he was waving to an adoring crowd. She burst out laughing as he unceremoniously dumped the clean laundry onto his bed.

"C'mon, kiddo. Bet I can fold more socks than you," he challenged his daughter. She picked up the remote and clicked off the noisy cartoon, then raced over to him, and jumped right in the middle of the pile of clothing, giggling like crazy.

"Not if I cover up all the socks so you can't find them!" she said, laughing. Dean immediately put on his mock outraged look.

"Hey! That's cheating!" he yelled, enjoying the silly game. He picked up a couple of shirts and dropped them on her face. "Ha ha! Take that!" he said in a villainous voice. She immediately began thrashing about dramatically, playing out a very boisterous death scene. He chuckled to himself- her energy astounded him on a daily basis. She could run in circles for hours and never get tired. By the time she was 5, she barely needed naps anymore. She was frequently awake when they pulled into motels at all hours of the night, and only rarely was cranky from tiredness the next day. Dean mentally shrugged to himself- hey, she was happy, she was healthy, he wasn't going to question it.

He turned his attention back to the overblown death-by-tee-shirt scene that she was enacting. He openly laughed as she flipped herself over, pulling the tee shirt off her face, and making what she considered a terrifically horrible grimace.

"AHHHH! NO! It can't end like this! Not like this!" Natalie screamed out dramatically, holding Dean's tee shirt over her head and shaking it as if it were Kryptonite and she was Superman. "Death by..." she paused for a moment, completely dropping out of character in order to read the front of the shirt she was shaking. "Pink Floyd! Ugh! Anyone but Pink Floyd!" she said grimly, wrinkling her nose.

Dean put on his stern face. "Hey- watch it. Pink Floyd is awesome, and don't you forget it, missy." She ignored him, gagging and gasping as the power of the clean shirt "killed" her.

"I...can see...the dark side...of the MOON..." she whispered, her little voice full of pretend anguish.

"Seriously?" Dean asked, chortling, watching the performance.

She gave one more theatrical gasp, then flopped down, apparently dead, back into the clean socks. She then bounced right back up, raised her tiny hand to the sky, and choked out, "Rosebud!" She then flung herself down again.

At that, Dean burst out laughing. "Where the hell did you learn that one, squirt?" he asked, doubling over. She opened one eye, but didn't move.

"From...Uncle...Sam," she gasped out, apparently still playing her death scene out. Dean shook his head, still chuckling.

"Of course. Trust him to be the one to teach you to be a drama queen." He snickered once more, then picked up the shirt that had caused Natalie's untimely demise, and began folding it. "Alright, get up," he said, poking Natalie in the leg. "If we start now, there's a chance we'll be done folding by the end of the week."

She bounced back up, fully recovered from her recent dramatic death. She began digging through the pile, looking for socks to match. She absolutely loved pairing them and balling them up. It made her feel important- lining everything up perfectly, putting all the right pieces together, and coming out with a result that made everyone happy. She loved that feeling of self accomplishment. Of course, being only eight, she really didn't analyze it like that- all she knew was that she loved doing it. Also, balled up socks made great missiles to throw at her uncle. She wasn't really allowed to do that, per se, but she was perfectly fine providing the ammo for her dad.

"So," Dean began casually, not really wanting to ruin the spirit of fun, but needing to know, "did you finish your homework?" He didn't look at her directly, but from his periphery, he could see that she started to squirm a bit.

"Yes, sir," she said, not looking at him.

"Really?" he asked, his gaze swinging back to her. She caught his eye for a second accidentally, then looked back down quickly. He smirked. Tell tale sign. She bounded off the bed, pulling a part of the pile of clothing down with her. She turned, scooped it up, and threw it back onto the bed before racing over to the small table by the window. She dug through the pile of papers and books stacked up there, and withdrew the sheet she had been looking for. She ran back over and shoved it under his nose for inspection. He stepped back a bit at her quickness to avoid getting hit in the face with a sheet of paper- man, with this kid, he had to use all of his hunter's reflexes- and then took the paper, his eyes running over it. She had indeed finished her vocabulary, writing out each word ten times. He looked back at her.

"Nice job, kiddo," he said with a smile, and handed her back the paper. She beamed at his praise. "What about your math?" he questioned. Again, her eyes darted around the room, not making contact with his. Yeah, that was what he thought. He leaned down, staring intensely at her. That was all it took.

"It's...almost done," she finally admitted sheepishly.

"Natalie," he began sternly. She squirmed again, twisting her foot like she was about to make a get away. "You know you're not allowed to watch cartoons until your homework is done."

She innocently held up the vocabulary sheet. "But it IS done." He gave her his full on "dad" look, which caused her eyes to start searching the carpet again.

"You know very well I mean ALL your homework, squirt," he scolded.

"Yes, sir," she said miserably, annoyed at herself for getting in trouble after they'd been having so much fun. "Do I have to finish it right now?" she asked.

Dean cocked his head to the side, and looked at her. She was generally a well behaved kid- this was a bit unusual. He was going to assume that being cooped up with Sam for days on end had contributed to this little bit of mischief, and decided to cut her a break.

"You can finish it after we're done folding this load. But no TV till it's all done, got it?" he said, his eyebrows raised at her. The sparkle returned to her eyes immediately, and she gave him one of her heart stopping grins.

"Yes sir!" she said excitedly, and clambered back onto the bed, right in the middle of the pile of clothing. He snickered at her sudden mood swing, and picked up a pair of her little leggings to fold. For a couple moments, father and daughter folded in silence, him tossing random socks to her, and her catching every one perfectly. Eventually, Natalie broke the silence with a question that had been on her mind since the middle of her illicit cartoons this morning.

"Hey, Dad?"

"Yo."

"So, um, when I was...watching TV before..." she said, rushing through the last part, not really wanting to make her dad recall her recent disobedience. "I saw that there was a really cool movie on later tonight."

"Oh yeah? What movie was that?"

She kept folding nonchalantly. "Star Wars," she said, trying to keep the tremor of excitement out of her voice. She had to play this one carefully. Star Wars was their THING. It was the first movie that Dean had showed her, and she loved every second of it. If it was on TV, and they weren't watching it together, she considered that hours lost that they would never, ever get back. They had watched all of the Star Wars movies, The Empire Strikes Back being an extremely close runner up for her favorite, but they both knew that A New Hope was clearly the best. She wasn't sure if her dad was still a bit put out with her for turning on the TV this morning while he was in the laundry room, so she was trying to be smooth and cool, just like him.

Dean tried to smother the smile that was threatening to show on his face. He knew exactly what she was up to, but decided to let her play it out. "Really. Which one?" he asked casually.

"A New Hope."

"Phew. I thought you meant one of the NEW ones for a second."

"Ugh. Gross."

"My thoughts exactly." He let the comment hang in the air for a second, and went right back to folding the shirts and pants like nothing had happened. He wondered just how long it would take for her to crack. He had counted to 42 silently in his head when she piped up again.

"Can we watch it together? _Pleeeeeease_?" she asked, unable to hold her excitement in any longer. He looked up, into her pleading green eyes. Damn Sam for teaching her the puppy dog look, which she had perfected at the age of three. He smiled.

"You have some math to finish first. Then we've got to get through all this laundry," he said, gesturing to the enormous pile. She began bouncing up and down on the bed.

"Yeah, but afterwards?" she questioned impatiently. He put his hands on the bed, and she immediately stopped bouncing. He leaned in close to her face, and watched her eyes go wide.

"If you can behave the rest of the day," he said, knowing that that wouldn't be a problem at all, "then we'll see." She drew in her breath excitedly and clasped her tiny hands together. He held up one finger, and she froze again. "I said, we'll see." She nodded vigorously, and began folding socks with a vengeance, determined to plow through the pile.

He chuckled again at her adorableness. He would never admit it out loud, but she had him so tightly by the heart, that he would have rather died than deny her absolutely anything that made her happy. He knew he had to lay down the law occasionally for her own good, and for his too. But he also knew she would get her homework done in under ten minutes, and this laundry wouldn't last all day. He was secretly thrilled that she wanted to spend time with him. Nothing was going to get in the way of that, not if he could help it.

A couple of minutes later, Dean's phone buzzed with a text. He picked it up and saw that it was Sam. He opened the message.

 _*Hey- met a girl at the library. Taking her out to dinner. Won't be home until later_

Dean chuckled again- this day just kept getting better and better. He replied.

 _*Go get her, tiger,_ he typed back. His phone immediately buzzed with a response.

 _*It's just dinner, don't be perverted_

 _*Yeah right. Make sure you take protection, stud muffin_

There was no reply this time. He grinned, and tossed his phone on to Sam's bed. The real reason he had only said "We'll see" to his daughter was an "out"- just in case Sam found them a job and they had to leave tonight. Dean couldn't stand the look of disappointment on Natalie's face when their fun time got cut short, so he preemptively gave himself a loophole when it came to things like this. However, with Sam otherwise occupied tonight, their schedule was free and clear.

"Hey Natalie," Dean asked, keeping his voice at that calm and cool level that she had been trying to emulate a couple minutes before. She popped her head up to look at him, her large green eyes inquisitive.

"What do you think? Skittles or M&M's?" She furrowed her brow, confused by his question. He shrugged.

"You know, for movie night tonight." Her eyes went wide again with delight, and instead of responding, she launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck with a delighted squeal.

Later that night, around 10:30, Sam pulled up to the motel. He saw a flickering blue light through the window of the room he was sharing with his brother and niece. He wasn't entirely surprised- sometimes they left the TV on at night, quietly. The noise seemed to help Natalie go to sleep, and could cover his and Dean's voices if they needed to talk about something they didn't want her to hear.

Natalie knew all about the monsters they hunted. Dean had been very adamant about being honest with her. Sam thought to himself that it was a result of what _he_ had been through as a kid- their dad keeping the secret from him, Sam, but not from Dean. Dean had known all along what they were dealing with, and watching Sam discover it on his own had been heartbreaking for the both of them. They told Natalie the truth about what they did, but they tended to keep the super gory details from her until they determined that she could handle them. Sam shook his head- even though she was only eight, she was getting ready for that kind of thing a lot faster than either he or Dean had anticipated. The kid was too smart, and starting to grow up, too fast. He quietly pushed the door open, not wanting to wake her. He was, however, surprised by the scene that greeted him.

Dean was sitting on the couch, with Natalie, wide awake, in his lap. She was sitting cross legged, clad in a Disney princess top with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles pajama pants, and with Dean's right arm wrapped around her torso, him holding her close to his chest. They were both staring at the TV as if it were spouting some crucial-to-the-existence-of-the-human-race propo, but upon further inspection, he realized that it was, once again, Star Wars. Episode Four, to be exact. He couldn't believe they were watching this again. It had some hold on the two of them that he just didn't understand.

He entered the room, tossing his jacket on the chair by the small table so as not to disturb the pile of school books that were scattered across it. "Really guys? Star Wars again?" he commented.

In response, father and daughter waved him away with their left hands, perfectly in sync. "Shh," they said at the same time. Sam shook his head. He was getting used to the two of them doing things perfectly in tandem, but this was ridiculous. He walked behind the couch and rested his hands on the back.

"Isn't this like the one thousandth time you've watched this?" he asked. Natalie turned to him with eight year old scorn.

"Uncle _Sam,_ " she hissed, adding emphasis to his name. "Be quiet- it's the trash compactor scene- this is movie _gold_." She dug her tiny hand into the gigantic open bag of Skittles that was propped up against Dean's leg, and popped a handful into her mouth. Sam leaned down, next to Dean's ear.

"Dude- it's almost eleven, and you're letting her eat all this sugar?" he said disdainfully. Dean turned to Sam, glaring. He pointed forcefully and emphatically to the TV, then to Sam, and pressed a finger to his lips. Sam got the message and backed off. Dean's attention turned back to the TV, and he pulled Natalie in a bit closer as they watched Luke and Friends best the trash compactor yet again. When the characters started cheering, so did father and daughter, giving each other a high five. Sam threw up his hands in defeat and headed into the bathroom to shower.

By the time Sam came out, the final credits were rolling. He was throwing on a clean shirt, grateful that Dean had actually managed to get the laundry done today. Natalie leaned back against her dad,

"Best. Movie. EVER," she declared with a delighted sigh.

"Damn straight," Dean agreed. Sam had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes.

"It's after eleven, Bug. I think it's time you went to bed," he said, using his affection nickname for Natalie. She swung her head around to look at him. She wrinkled her nose at his suggestion.

"I don't wanna go to bed," she whined. Dean picked up the Skittles bag next to him, and twisted the top so it wouldn't spill everywhere. He then picked Natalie up and set her next to him on the couch.

"You never want to go to bed," he commented jokingly. She put on her puppy dog eyes and stuck out her bottom lip. "Hey, hey," he said. "Don't you try any of your Jedi mind tricks on me. Sam's right- you probably should be in bed."

"Or," she said, twisting her head coyly to one side, "We could have a light saber battle."

Dean stopped for a second, looking at her, then he looked at Sam. He held out both hands in front of him. "Hmm," he said. He raised his right hand. "Light saber battle," he said, then raised his left. "Bed time." He shifted his hands back and forth for a moment, like he was weighing the pros and cons of each. He suddenly dropped his right hand down, and shrugged in surrender. "Yeah, her idea is better." He suddenly grabbed the TV remote and held it like the handle of a light saber. He spun to face his daughter, making the "cool" noise of a light blade being activated. She shrieked in excitement, and tore into the bathroom. She came back two seconds later, tightly gripping the handle of her hairbrush, holding it up in classic guard position, an intense look of concentration on her little face. _Here we go,_ thought Sam.

"Ah, the force is strong with this one," Dean said in his best Darth Vader voice. He then added a couple of heavy breaths for emphasis. She picked up the scene immediately.

"Vader! You betrayed and murdered my father!" she said, her voice full of dramatic indignation as she began circling him.

"No- I AM your father. Like, for realsies," Dean said, making an overblown dramatic face, knowing that the last part would make her laugh. And he was right- she, very un-Jedi-like, burst out laughing, but then contained it quickly.

"For REALSIES? Impossible!" she shrieked, and launched herself, laughing, at him. They began the most epic fake light saber battle possible, complete with their own crackling saber sound effects.

"Well, she's never going to go to sleep now," Sam said loudly, hoping to distract his brother. It didn't work. Dean was too busy trying to fight the light side to pay him any attention. Sam plopped down on his bed to watch the battle unfold. In spite of his annoyance, Sam had to smile. It was great watching Dean cut loose and connect with his inner child through Natalie. She certainly brought out a softer, more playful side in him than Sam had ever seen. He marveled at Dean's capacity for play- he had no doubt where Natalie got all her manic energy from. However, after about 10 minutes of the duel to end all duels, Sam was ready for that energy to burn out. Unfortunately for him, neither Dean nor Natalie were showing any signs of slowing down. He sighed, stood up, and walked over to Natalie. He reached over and pulled the hairbrush out of her hand.

"Hey!" she shouted. "You can't do that!"

"Yes, I can. I'm using the force to disarm you," he said dryly. "Dean, she really needs to be in bed."

Dean sighed. "Chewbacca's right, squirt." Sam made a face at Dean, but he didn't respond. Instead, he dropped the remote onto the table, and walked over to pick her up. "Come on, bed time for young padawans." He carried her over to the sofa, where she always slept, and set her down. "Go get the dog," he said, and she obediently went to retrieve it from her own duffle bag. She came back clutching the golden retriever puppy that she always slept with. Dean dug through the stack of her clean clothes and found her favorite blanket. He tossed one of the pillows from his bed onto the sofa, and helped her get settled, tucking in her. When she was finally down, he sat next to her on the sofa and looked her right in the eyes.

"Now," he said, making sure she was paying attention, "What is the most important thing to remember?"

"Han shot first."

"Good girl." He patted the side of her face and started to stand up.

"Hey, daddy?" she said, causing him to sit back down.

"Yeah?"

"I love you," she said, simply, smiling at him. His heart twisted in the most pleasant way. He put on his best cocky grin.

"I know," he said, continuing to quote their favorite series. "Hey. I love you too."

She mimicked his cocky grin. "I know." He kissed her on the forehead, and flicked off the room lights.

 **If you haven't guessed, I love writing little fluff pieces :) But stick with me- we've got some major action ones coming up! Thanks for reading!**


	4. Bury The Sunlight

**Hey everyone! Thank you so much for all the follows, reviews, and favorites! High fives and hugs for each and every one of you!**

 **As always, a huge thank you to Jenmm31. I couldn't do this without her- she's been a great friend, supporter, and cheerleader! Make sure you check out her amazing sis fics. You can find her in my favorites! She's fabulous, and after you read her wonderful O/C Kate, you can turn in your application to me to be a part of the "Kate Fan Club". :)**

 **Please read, review, leave me any messages about anything you'd like to read about with Natalie, and ENJOY! Away we go!**

A/N- in this story, Natalie is 14

The smoke from the gun barrel turned into silver clouds in the moonlight. Sam watched as the creature he had just plugged exploded into nothingness. He gave it another moment, taking in all his surroundings and making sure they were out of danger, before his eyes shifted back down to the crumpled figure on the ground. He quickly scanned her, making sure she didn't have any broken limbs or was bleeding. When he was satisfied, he lowered his gun and said quietly, "Are you okay?"

Natalie's shocked gaze met his stoic one- she had no idea he was even here. Where the hell had he come from? She let out the breath she realized she was holding. The panic of the second attack was receding. The common sense that had been eluding her all day returned to her in a rush, and she struggled to find her voice again. "Yeah, I'm okay," she mumbled. Now that the immediate danger was no longer right in front of her, a whole new panic was starting to take over, looking at her uncle.

"Good. Let's go home," Sam said evenly, but Natalie wasn't fooled. He was PISSED, and they both knew it. She dropped her gaze, the guilt starting to seep into her veins. Sam walked over to her in 3 easy strides. He held out his hand, and she begrudgingly took it. At least it was Sam who caught her and not Dean. Her dad wouldn't have helped her up- he would have just shot her stone dead on the ground.

After helping her off the dirty barn floor, Sam's grip shifted to her upper arm, and he began pulling her outside towards the car. Even though she was slightly annoyed at still being treated like a child, she didn't try to shake him off. What was the point? She'd just end up in more trouble. She couldn't believe this. How had everything gone so wrong so quickly?

 _FLASHBACK_

Earlier that afternoon, she had been sitting at her laptop when she hit the jackpot.

"Ha!" she said, causing her father and uncle to look up from their own work. She grinned at them, triumphant. She leaned back in Bobby's old desk chair nonchalantly. They had been at Bobby's house for about two days now. They had gotten a call from him, saying that there was a case right there in his neck of the woods. Always eager to go back to the closest thing they'd ever had to a home, the Winchesters piled into the Impala and heading straight for South Dakota.

Bobby was getting up there in years, and wasn't comfortable hunting on his own anymore. When the story of the multiple murder victims in his area reached his ears, he had been on the phone with Dean right away. No stinking haunts messed with his turf, not if he had anything to say about it.

Since pulling in to the old homestead, all three of them had relished in their own privacy, thoroughly enjoying not having to be cramped together in a motel room, for one full day before getting back down to business. They had been doing their research, trying to find out if or how all these murders were connected. Sam had been checking out the victims' causes of death, trying to determine if it was the same spirit or demon killing these people off, while Dean had been checking into any connections they may have had with Bobby. When a case popped up this close to a hunter, it was relatively safe to assume there may be a connection. Natalie had been working on past incidents that may have caused a spirit to become trapped here and start wreaking havoc.

The boys had been letting Natalie get into the research more and more lately, which thrilled her to no end. She had been working on research for them since she was ten, when they had made the discovery just how shockingly good she was at making computers sit up and beg for her. She could often find things quicker than even Sam, so she had essentially cut their research time down by at least a couple hours per case. The idea of stopping evil, saving innocent lives, and being just like her dad was right up her alley. Dean had been pushing her pretty hard lately, both with physical training and mental training, drilling her with demonic lore. She had risen to the challenge, taking it all in, absorbing it like a sponge, and getting her father's cocky attitude along with it all. She had recently decided that it was time for her to go on her first solo hunt soon, despite being only fourteen. Her dad was being a stubborn goat about it, but she knew she was up for it- it was just a matter of time before he gave in.

"What'd you find?" Dean asked her now, matter of factly.

"Check it out," she said, twisting the laptop so they could see the old newspaper clip she'd discovered. Sam craned his head to get a better look. "About three years ago, this farmer dude, last name Baker, gets killed one night when a burglar tries to break into his house. Baker was trying to defend his family, and the thief shoots him and runs." She shook her head sympathetically- there was so much evil in the world that people didn't even know about; it was baffling to her how people could be evil to each other for no reason at all. She focused back on the case and continued.

"The thief was later caught and identified by the farmer's wife, tried for first degree murder, lifetime imprisonment, blah blah blah. Here's the interesting part. Take a look at the thief's description," she said to Sam. He stood up and walked closer to the computer so he could get a better look. His eyes locked on the picture of the murderer. He nodded with a grin.

"Good catch," Sam complimented her. She swelled with pride and sat up a little higher in her seat.

"What is it?" Dean asked.

"The murderer was 23, brown hair, looked like he needed a few squares, or was strung out on something," Sam said.

"So?"

"All of the murder victims have similar traits to the thief," Sam explained. "All male, around the age of 20-25, dark hair, scrawny build."

"Looks like we got us a vengeful spirit," Dean commented, abandoning his own research and coming closer to the two of them. Natalie nodded and finished his thought.

"Who is targeting men who look like his murderer."

"Looks like it," Sam agreed. Dean reached over to the keyboard and began scrolling down the story.

"Do we know where Baker was buried?" he asked.

"Yep," Natalie piped up. "His wife buried him behind their old barn. She was so distraught after his murder, she insisted that he get buried on their farm. She apparently wanted him to stay close, even in death," she said, wrinkling her nose in displeasure. "Gross. But his spirit obviously felt her grief, which is why he lingered," she said. Dean nodded in agreement with Natalie's assessment.

"Where's the barn located?"

Natalie clicked on one of the tabs that she had opened earlier. "And there's the final proof," she said proudly. The Google map picture popped up on screen. She pulled back from it, and clicked another button. 4 small red dots appeared. She pointed to the star in the middle of the map. "See? Here's the Baker Family Farm. And these," she said, pointing to the red dots, "are the locations of the 4 murder victims."

"Nice, squirt," Dean complimented her, smiling. His kid was so damn smart.

"They're all within 10 miles of the barn," Sam said. "How does a spirit manage to drag its victims that far away from where it's trapped?" he said, something not adding up in his mind. Dean shrugged.

"Does it matter? We just need to stop the spirit from taking out another dude, and the whole situation goes away," he said.

"Yeah, I guess..." Sam muttered, still not satisfied. Natalie watched the small exchange between brothers, and then chimed in with her own idea.

"I agree with Dad," she said. "I mean, this just seems like a simple salt and burn, easy peasy. So I think you should let me do it."

Two pairs of narrowed eyes swung immediately to her, but she was not deterred. "Come on. This is child's play. I can do this in my sleep," she said, not even trying to conceal her cockiness.

"No," Dean and Sam said at the same time. Her face fell.

"Why not?" she pressed. She knew exactly what they were going to say- they had already said it a thousand times. But she was determined- they had to cut the cord sometime.

"Not this again," Dean muttered, turning away. Sam sighed his usual annoyed sigh.

"Bug..." he began patiently.

"DON'T call me that!" she interrupted angrily, her temper already flaring. She was SO sick of that nickname, and he wouldn't stop using it. Her outburst earned her a glare from her father, as if to say _watch your tone_. She snapped her mouth shut, but she was still ticked. Sam went on.

"You're only fourteen. You are not ready for a solo hunting trip. Not even close," he said gently. Natalie threw up her hands in frustration.

"Come on! All I have to do is burn the old guy's bones. For heaven's sake, I've already done a lot worse," she said.

"Not by choice," Dean interjected, still facing away from her. His blood boiled when he thought of the "Candyman Incident". Natalie knew exactly where his mind was heading, and she was determined to shake him out of it before he went on full Natalie Lock Down.

"But I was fine, right? This one is almost too easy."

"Exactly," Dean said, turning back to her, his hands on his hips. _Classic lecture position,_ she thought bitterly to herself.

"You really still don't understand how these things can work- how these monsters and spirits and demons can act. Just because it looks like a simple case doesn't mean it is one. Doesn't even mean it's a spirit. There could be a dozen different factors that you're not prepared for," he said sternly, hoping against hope to nip this in the bud now.

"Okay, how about this?" she asked, trying her second tactic. When Dean saw that she wasn't backing down, his blood pressure spiked. He found himself longing for the days when she had just done what he told her, the first time. She very rarely fought him on anything, but lately she had been hell bent on this crazy idea of a solo job. They had taken her on several cases already, trying to curb this particular obsession. She was actually on her way to becoming a stellar hunter- her assistance on some of these jobs had proved invaluable, but they were very careful to only take her on cases where she could be out of arm's reach of whatever monster they were tracking. She had been training for years- basically since she was 6. Dean knew she was a damn good shot, and could even throw a knife better than he could, but it didn't change the fact that she was very small for her age, not to mention small for a Winchester. She didn't have the physical strength one needed to really go one on one with some of these supernatural creatures. She could run like the wind, but Dean's daughter was, unfortunately, way too much like him- she'd rather fight to the death than run to safety. He tried to come back to the present, tried to focus on her words, but who was he kidding? His mind was already made up.

"If I make a salt ring all around the grave, I'm perfectly safe while digging," she was explaining, expecting praise for her brilliant idea.

"Salt lines are really easy to break if you're not paying attention to them," Sam said, not missing a beat.

"So I'll pay attention to them."

"And what if something attacks before you can lay down a ring? Or what if it's not a spirit- what if burning his bones doesn't work?" Sam asked, challenging her. Natalie's temper spiked. Usually, Sam was helping her when it came to convincing her dad that she wasn't a toddler anymore. She wasn't used to him taking Dean's side, and she really didn't like it now. She focused her glare on him.

"You've already said, it's just a spirit..." she began.

"And I'VE already said that it might not be that," Dean interrupted. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He still couldn't believe his little angel was turning into such a...teenager. He was just wishing they could have skipped this stage, but no such luck.

"You're not going by yourself. We will take you with us to deal with it, but you are not going by yourself. End of discussion," he said, pointing a finger in her face.

She knew she shouldn't say it. Every instinct in her was screaming _THIS IS A BAD IDEA!_ She knew better than to back talk, especially when her father had just laid down his infamous "End of Discussion" line. But the Winchester gene won out over her common sense, and she became instantly enraged. Her mouth opened of its own accord.

"Well I say it's not the end of the discussion!" she yelled.

Dean and Sam both froze. Sam's eyes almost popped out of his head as they swung around to catch Dean's reaction. He watched as Dean ever so slowly unthawed from his frozen position due to the blood boiling in his veins. _Oh shit,_ thought Sam. _Here we go._

"What did you just say to me?" Dean said in his quiet, dangerous growl. Sam's gaze shifted to Natalie. She had steeled herself for battle- she was really going to try this. He fought the urge to jump in front of her as a human shield.

"Just because you don't think I can handle this, doesn't mean you're right!" she yelled. "You never let me try anything on my own! You're so convinced that I'm just a no-nothing kid who can't do anything!"

"That's not true, and you know it," Dean stated, the warning ringing clear in his voice, but she paid no attention to that. She just plowed on.

"Yeah? Then let me do this!" she pleaded.

"How many times do I have to tell you? You are not ready for this yet!" he said, his voice rising. "This has nothing to do with you "not being able to handle" anything! I didn't even go on my first trip solo until I was eighteen. I don't even go on solo trips NOW! You know what we're up against, how important it is to have someone watching your back. Do you have any idea how many times over Sam and I would be dead if we weren't there for each other?!" he roared. Natalie opened up her mouth to retort, but he wasn't done. He had had enough of this argument with her. They had already had it more times that he could count. He held up his hand to stop her words. "No- I don't want to hear it. You're not going solo. And if you keep pressing the matter, I won't even take you with us when we do go kill this son of a bitch, got it?"

"You can't expect-"

"Watch me."

"You are being completely unfair!"

"And you are skating on thin ice, little girl."

"But, Dad-!"

"Natalie, you are not going solo. Not another word about it. That's an order."

It was out of her mouth before she could stop it. "Just because Grandpa made you into a soldier doesn't mean that I have to be one!"

The words hung in the suddenly deathly silent air. Dean instantly bypassed the hurt her statement had caused, and he went straight to pure anger. However, raging at Natalie wasn't the way to straighten her out- he wanted to get under her skin and drive his message home like a stake. Just like his daughter, his emotions overpowered his common sense. And he knew exactly what her particular Hot Button was.

"That's it." He pointed up the stairs towards the bedrooms. "Go to your room. You're in a Time Out."

Natalie's face registered shock. She actually took a step back, she was so surprised at his sudden turn. There was no way that he just... "What?" she stammered.

"You heard me."

"You can't be serious."

"As a heart attack." Dean shrugged casually, like he wasn't about to explode at all. "You choose to act like a child, I'm sure as hell going to treat you like one. Go. NOW." He pointed towards the stairs again angrily.

Natalie was completely thrown. He hadn't put her in Time Out since she was eight, and for fuck's sake- she was fourteen. _I was right,_ she thought to herself, the angry tears welling up in her eyes. _He does still think I'm a child._ She stammered for two seconds for a retort, but her brain failed her. She knew there was no other option, and she sure as hell wasn't going to burst into furious tears, further emphasizing her youth in her father's mind. She stomped off towards her room. Just as she rounded the corner, out of sight, Dean yelled out one more pissed-off dig.

"If you slam your door, you're gonna get it!"

Something in Natalie's mind snapped when she heard that. Any shred of common sense she had left had just been blown out of the water by one little sentence. She continued stomping till she reached her room, and closed the door as forcefully as she dared without actually slamming it. That would keep him off her back. Fine. She wouldn't slam her door. She'd just prove to them that they were wrong. About everything. Her mind began to spin out radically as she formulated her plan.

 _END FLASHBACK_

Sam shoved her into the passenger side seat. She was grateful that at least he wasn't making her ride in the back. He slid behind the wheel, turned on the ignition, and threw the car into reverse. He peeled out in a move that was worthy of his brother. They had barely made it back onto the dirt path leading to the main road before he started in on her.

"Natalie. What the hell."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry," she said with a sigh, leaning forward and resting her head in her hands. Now that her common sense was finally making a reappearance, it was beating against her brain like a drummer at a heavy metal concert.

"Did nothing we said this afternoon sink in?" Sam said, his voice rising. Natalie inwardly shrunk down- Sam almost never yelled at her, and when he did, he always had a good reason. The fact that she had just done something so colossally stupid, mixed with Sam's scolding, was almost more than she could take. "Well, obviously not, or we wouldn't be here," he finished, frustrated. She wrung her hands in her lap, knowing he was absolutely right.

"I know it was stupid. I...I was just...so mad..." she stammered. Sam's eyes shifted off the road for a second, watching her trying to formulate her words. "It was like...I just had to try. I had to prove to you guys that I could handle this." The angry tears that had threatened to spill earlier that afternoon were now burning her eyes with regret. "And I just….failed. Like, epically failed."

Sam took a deep breath, hating hearing her bash herself. "Natalie, this is exactly what we were talking about. This wasn't just a typical case. That's why you need someone watching your back at all times. I don't know how many more times we can tell you that it's not about you not being capable- it's about the fact that these creatures don't play by the rules. It's about the fact that if you get into a sticky situation with one of them, they won't go easy on you just because you're a kid. It's about the fact that they can think for themselves, and chances are, they know a lot more ways to kill you than you know ways to kill them." He looked sideways at her again to see if any of it was sinking in. Her whole demeanor was changing, from the angry adolescent that had thrown a temper tantrum this afternoon, back to the rational, smart young woman that he knew she really was. She was twisting her hands in her lap, and he knew she was battling to keep from crying. He turned his attention back to the road to try to give her a minute to collect herself. After a long moment of silence, she spoke quietly.

"You're right. I know it was stupid. I was just so angry and so driven to try to..." she broke off.

"Try to what?" he asked gently after a moment.

"...try to prove that I could handle it," she finished limply. Sam's eyes narrowed- there was something she wasn't telling him. He had always had this uncanny ability to know when she was lying to him. However, since this wasn't directly a lie, and he could see she was getting the message, he decided not to press the issue. He simply waited for her to continue.

"Look, I get it now. Those things moved more quickly than I thought, and I definitely wasn't expecting the second one." She glanced over at her uncle, sheepishly. "Thanks for saving my ass," she said in a quiet tone. "How did you know where I was?"

"You didn't wait long enough for the car to pull away from the house before you snuck out the window. Once I saw you take off running, it wasn't too hard to figure out where you were going," he said with a smirk. Natalie rolled her eyes at her own idiocy. Once again, he was right- the second she had heard the Impala fire up, she had climbed right out the window. She shook her head- boy, when her temper took over, she was _stupid._ Sam chuckled as he watched her put that one together.

"Your dad and I had been checking supplies, prepping to go after the...well, what we thought was the spirit. I noticed that we were completely out of rock salt, even though I thought that we had at least some left in one of the bags. So I left the...house to..." Sam stopped. Now _he_ felt like the stupid one. He looked at his niece, who now had her own wobbly smirk on her face. "You took it all, didn't you." It was not a question. "So we would have to leave the house to get more." Of course. She turned her head to look at him, and shrugged with a lopsided smile. _Damn Dean for teaching her that gesture,_ he thought.

"I had to be prepared, too," she said, and looked back out of the window. She still was shaken by how _unprepared_ she really had been.

"Yeah? And remind me how that worked out for you."

"Not good."

"Finally. The kid learns a lesson."

She twisted her hands in her lap again. She needed to ask him a question, but she really wasn't sure if she wanted to hear the answer.

"Uncle Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you going to tell Dad?"

Sam took a deep breath, just imagining how that particular conversation with Dean would go. "Not unless I can help it, Natalie."

Her insides sagged with relief. The fact that she was safe from the wrath of her father was enough to make her giddy, and she gave him a rare smile. "Natalie?" she asked, jokingly. "Not Bug?" His mouth twisted in amusement at her question.

"I thought you didn't want me to call you that anymore," he commented. She flushed, remembering her outburst this afternoon.

"Naw, it's okay. And I'm sorry for yelling this afternoon. I didn't mean it," she said, abashed. He nodded, his smile widening. Her own grin threatened to get bigger, but she smothered it, as was her way. That nod from him meant he forgave her.

"Don't worry about it. BUG," he said, tacking the nickname back on.

"How did you even give me that nickname in the first place?" she asked.

He chuckled. "When you were way younger, I used to call you "Nat" for short. One day, I think you were about three, I called you Nat, and you said to me, 'Unca Sam, a gnat is a bug!'" he said, imitating her three year old voice. "So I said, 'Should I call you "Bug" then?' And you thought that was the funniest thing you had ever heard," he recalled, laughing at the memory of his niece rolling on the floor, uncontrollably giggling. "Every time I called you "Bug" for the rest of that day, you just started laughing," he said. "I guess the name just stuck."

She looked at him, incredulous. "You mean I was the one who made you call me Bug?"

"Afraid so."

She shook her head. "I cannot believe I brought this all on myself." Sam just slowly turned his head to look at her, an annoyingly smug grin on his face. She knew exactly what he meant by that particular look.

"Yeah, don't worry. The irony of the moment is not lost on me," she grumbled. Sam's eyes turned back to the road. Suddenly, his cell starting blaring from his pocket. He fished it out with one hand, and held it up to see who was calling at such a late hour. When he saw the caller ID, his heart dropped through the seat of the car.

"Oh shit," he hissed. Natalie turned her head to look at him. "It's Dean," he moaned.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god..." she gasped, beginning to hyperventilate.

He waved his hand at her, shushing her. "Do not make a sound," he instructed. She pressed her lips together and nodded. He looked at her once more to make sure she understood, then pressed the 'answer' button.

"Hey. What's up?" he asked, praying that his voice was nonchalant enough to pull this off.

"Do you have her?" came the growl on the other end. Sam's throat tightened. He used all the acting skills he had at his command to relax.

"What? What do you mean?"

"Sammy, cut the crap. Do. You. Have. Her."

Sam sighed, knowing the jig was up. Dean already knew he had her- he was just waiting for confirmation. Sam turned to Natalie, his eyes full of apology. "He knows," he mouthed at her. She slammed the back of her head against the car seat. He pressed the phone back to his ear.

"Yeah. I've got her," he said, resigned.

"Put her on, now."

Sam reluctantly handed the phone to his niece. "He wants to talk to you."

 _The feeling is NOT mutual,_ she thought, but didn't dare verbalize it. She took the phone, her hand shaking. She put it up to her ear gingerly like she was pressing a live viper to her face.

"H-Hey Daddy," she stammered.

He didn't return the greeting. "You went after the spirit, didn't you." Not a question.

She gulped. He could make her feel like a seven year old all over again, just with his tone. "Yes, sir."

"After I told you not to."

Four years old. "Yes, sir."

"Give me two good reasons why I shouldn't kill you with my bare hands the second you get home."

"Um...because you love me?"

"And reason number two."

There was a long pause. "I got nothing."

"Do you have any idea how much trouble you are in?"

"Yes, sir, I think so," she said, her voice quavering.

"Good. I want you to think REAL hard about that on the drive home. Now give me back to Sam."

"Yes, sir," she whispered. She limply passed the phone off to Sam, not turning her head. He took it from her and put it back up to his ear.

"Yeah?" he asked his brother.

"Take the long way home. And drive slow." CLICK.

Sam looked at the disconnected phone and sighed. Natalie pulled her own phone out of her pocket and began typing furiously.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Typing out my Last Will and Testament," she answered grimly. Sam didn't say anything. It wasn't the worst idea she had ever had.

*SPN SPN SPN*

About ten minutes later, they pulled into Bobby's drive way. Natalie's heart sank when she saw Dean sitting on the porch steps. She caught a glint of light flashing from his hands. For a heart stopping moment, she thought- _It's his gun. He really is going to shoot me dead-_ but when she narrowed her eyes, she saw it was really a tumbler half full of some honey colored liquid. She squirmed in her seat. Her dad only drank the super hard stuff when he was extremely upset. She said three four-letter words in her head, trying to expel some of the blind fear that was threatening to make her stomach turn inside out. It didn't help at all.

Sam pulled up next to the house, and stopped the car. He noticed Natalie slowly unbuckling her seat belt. He felt so bad for her that he didn't even know what to say. On top of the self realization that she wasn't able to handle hunting on her own, she now had her furious father to deal with. He shot her a sympathetic glance as he got out of the car. When she couldn't stall any longer, she pushed open her car door, and climbed out. She immediately dug her hands into her pockets and walked up to her father, her eyes downcast.

Dean's stoic demeanor was sticking strong, even though he felt like a land mine that just had a safe dropped on it. But he was a master at disguising his true emotions. His eyes slowly lifted from the glass in his hand to his daughter's face. She was purposefully not looking at him, but she didn't have to. He could read her like a book. Regret and sheer terror were radiating off her.

"Living room," he said evenly. She nodded quickly, still not looking at him, and scurried past him, up the steps and through the front door. He wasn't going to wait till morning to start in on her. He wanted this thing dealt with now. Sam watched her practically run into the house, then he slowly walked towards his brother.

Dean was lifting his drink back to his mouth, but paused long enough to ask. "Were you in on it with her?"

Sam stepped back in surprise. "What? No! No way!" he said hotly. Dean nodded and took another swallow before asking the next question.

"How did you know where she was?" he said, in that chillingly calm voice that fooled no one.

"I saw her climbing out of the window when I left to get salt."

"And you didn't try to stop her then?" Dean's eyes narrowed as he focused on his little brother. Sam shrugged apologetically.

"Since I was there to watch her, she wasn't ever really in danger, but she didn't know that. I figured it was the best way to teach her a lesson." Sam said cautiously, analyzing his brother's reaction. A muscle was jumping in Dean's jaw as if he was clenching his back teeth. Dean bobbed his eyebrows once in acknowledgement of what Sam had said, and threw the rest of the drink into his mouth. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, but couldn't make himself get up just yet. He rolled his aching neck around on his shoulders.

"Did she get hurt?" he asked gruffly.

"She's probably going to be a bit bruised, but nothing that won't heal. I'll let her tell you what happened. But I can tell you, she knows what she did, and she feels like crap."

The stillness in the post midnight air was unsettling. There wasn't even a breeze- just nothingness. Sam watched Dean internally wrestle with the whole situation, not knowing if he should try to offer his brother advice or just stay silent. When Dean got this way, it was a total crapshoot as to how he'd react. Either way had the potential to be exactly what Dean needed to hear, or the fastest way to get yourself killed. Sam opted to stay silent, which happened to be the right choice. Finally, Dean banged his glass onto the steps, not hard enough to shatter it, but enough to make a startlingly loud noise in the quiet night. He stood up, turned, and walked back into the house without another word. Sam followed a distance behind him, swiping the glass on the way in. He desperately wanted to sneak away into his own room before Dean started in on Natalie, knowing she would feel even worse if he was there when Dean started yelling. He made his way up the stairs, but kept the door open a crack- just in case.

Dean sauntered into the living room like he had all the time in the world. Natalie was sitting with her legs up on the couch, her arms wrapped around one bent knee, like she was trying to collapse in on herself. She always did that when she was in trouble- it was like if she could make herself smaller, she'd somehow become invisible. She was staring resolutely at the carpet, but Dean could see she had no fight left in her. Something had clearly broken her defiance. But that didn't mean he was going to let her out of the consequences of her actions.

"I want your cell phone," he said, walking in front of her and holding out his hand. She had been expecting that- it was already laying on the couch, next to her, in anticipation of it being taken. She quietly picked it up and placed in into his outstretched palm. He swiftly slipped it into his back pocket, then held out his hand again.

"And the rest of it." A tiny sigh escaped her, but she would have been lying to herself if she said she hadn't expected this too. She began unloading her arsenal. Her favorite silver .45, the backup .45, three full clips, the container of salt and salt bullets, the flask of holy water, the bottle of kerosene, the Zippo, the throwing knives, and even a small vial of dead man's blood. Dean couldn't help himself- his eyes widened as she kept pulling weapons out, impressed by her forethought. She saw this, and took it as a small sign of hope.

"At least I had everything I could have needed, right?" she asked in a small voice, looking up into his face. Unfortunately for her, this was one of those crapshoots where it would have been in her best interest to stay silent. Dean's eyes slid to her, and they widened in disbelief. _Dammi_ _t dammit dammit,_ she thought, her insides freezing upon seeing the incredulous look on his face. After a moment of stunned silence, he roared so loud that she jumped, and almost fell off the sofa.

"THAT'S your opening line?!" he bellowed. "You just deliberately disobeyed me, snuck out of the house, almost got yourself killed, and that's what you open with?" He shook his head and looked away. "Unbelievable." He crossed over to the desk and unceremoniously dumped the load of weapons onto it. The resulting crash made Natalie jump again. He stormed back over to her.

"What the hell were you thinking?!" he yelled. Natalie clenched her jaw as she felt the tears press against her eyes again. Dammit, she was NOT going to cry.

"What on earth could possibly have possessed you to think that this was even a remotely good idea? Huh? Answer me!" His voice was rising in volume so quickly, she didn't doubt for a second they had woken up every one in the nearby vicinity, possibly even in the next state over. She knew she was going to have to come up with an answer, and she was too tired and upset to even try to get herself out of trouble this time.

"I wasn't thinking," she said, quietly.

"You're damn right, you weren't!" he interjected, but then fell silent again.

"I...I was so mad from this afternoon, that...that it was like any shred of intelligence that I had left was just gone. I know now how stupid it was, and I know that doesn't excuse the fact that I still did it. I'm...I'm really sorry. I can't believe that I actually thought that I could handle this on my own, and I know now that I can't." She finally looked up at Dean, who was just standing there, listening to her apology. "Look, I deserve every punishment you're going to throw at me. But please know that I really do know now what an idiot I was, and I promise that I won't do it again."

A small part of Dean's brain almost fainted with relief- now HERE was his kid. This was Natalie, back to her senses. She had always been so eager to please him, so willing to do whatever he said, that any hint of disobedience from her felt like he was dealing with a Natalie Skin Walker- looking exactly like Natalie, but clearly not Natalie at all. Dean let that part of his brain win out, and the sheer anger that he had been wallowing in evaporated. He was still frustrated, still upset, but he had lost that red veil over his eyes. He knew that it had just been out of uncontrolled anger when he had sent her to her room this afternoon, causing her to snap and go out and do something reckless. It scared him, knowing how easily he could push her over the edge. He was determined to get that feeling under control.

He sat down next to her on the couch, dropping heavily into it. She didn't turn her head to look at him- she was still too busy trying to keep her traitorous tears in check.

"Good," he said. Natalie could hear the shift in his voice, and began to calm down a bit herself, which, of course made it harder to keep from crying. "I'm glad you finally get it." He turned sideways on the couch to face her. "Although I don't know if I can really hold you to the promise that you won't do it again. You are a Winchester, after all. Searching for trouble is kind of our thing," he said, trying to lighten the mood a bit. A tiny smile threatened to creep onto her face. He leaned back against the sofa arm.

"Alright. Walk me through it." Natalie turned her head, finally making eye contact with him. "What happened with the spirit? I want to know what you did, and what you learned tonight," he said. Natalie's eyes dropped back down to the rug. She took a deep breath.

"Well, I got there, and found the grave pretty much right off the bat. I made a salt ring around it, like I had planned, and dug up the grave. It took a lot longer than I thought it would."

Dean nodded. "Takes a lot longer by yourself, doesn't it." Natalie acknowledged the comment with a sigh- she totally deserved that one.

"Yes, sir," she said grimly. She sought her father's face again. He was still waiting on the rest of the story, apparently done with that particular point. She plunged ahead.

"So it was all going fine, guy burned up. I thought it was over. Then I stepped outside of the salt ring," she said, her tone growing bitter. Dean's eyes widened- this was what Sam had been alluding to. "And that's when she attacked me."

"She?" Dean questioned. Natalie's eyes turned to stone in her anger at herself.

"The Farmer's Wife," she said, spitting the words like they were venom. As the facts quickly knitted themselves together in Dean's brain, he rolled his head backwards.

"Oh. You've got to be kidding me," he said. She snorted.

"Yup. Wifey killed herself not long after Baker died. She turned into a poltergeist."

"And since she was trapped on the farm, it was the husband's spirit who kept moving the dead guys away from it," Dean said, putting it together. Natalie nodded.

"Yep. At least, that's what she told me," she said. Dean's temper spiked briefly at the idea of some stinking dead bitch monologing on his daughter, but he brushed past that, determined to hear the rest of the story.

"She said that she was luring victims to the scene of her husband's murder, and finishing them off to avenge his death. Her husband didn't want the bodies around- they reminded him too much of the ass that murdered him, so he drug the bodies off their property. She didn't really tell me much more than that- she was pissed that I had just released her husband back to the spirit world, and she started trying to kick my ass."

Dean's eyebrow arched. "Trying to?"

Natalie's eyes narrowed. She never was that good a liar. "Okay, she did kick my ass. She threw me across the barn, into the wall."

"Did you get hurt?" he asked.

"Nothing that won't heal," she said, using one of her uncle's favorite phrases. Dean nodded, and she continued speaking.

"I managed to dodge out of her way when she tried to grab me again, but then she did an about face and came flying at me, and I fell backwards. Every stinking exorcism I'd ever memorized just flew right out of my damn head. I was just so shocked I couldn't think. And that's when Uncle Sam came out of nowhere and plugged her." Her eyes shifted back to her father. "Guess I need to study those exorcisms a little harder, huh?"

Dean gave her his classic Dad face. "Yeah. And not go hunting by yourself, too. That's a kind of big one," he said sarcastically. She lowered her gaze yet again. "Come on, Natalie. What were you really thinking?" he pressed. "I know you're a hell of a lot smarter than this. Why are you so bound and determined to get yourself killed going solo?"

Natalie bit her tongue. She really hadn't told anyone, least of all, Dean, what was really going on in her head. She knew that he would eventually worm it out of her, but she still took a moment, choosing her words carefully. She really did want to get this off her mind if it was going to make her go crazy like she had today.

"You and Uncle Sam...you guys are like...the best super heroes ever. Always saving the day, rescuing the innocent. And I just want to help. I want to be on the team so bad, and I just wanted you to be able to trust me to handle this, because sometimes I don't feel like you do."

Dean sat up in surprise, and held up a hand. "Whoa, whoa, whoa." His eyes narrowed. "You think I don't trust you? Is that what this all is about?" Natalie shrugged, indicating that he had hit the nail on the head. His mouth dropped open. He had thought this was just raging teenager hormones, or whatever it was that made kids her age go psycho. He had no idea that she thought he didn't trust her. He shook his head in frustration.

"Oh my god. Come here," he ordered. She looked up in surprise at his stern tone, and saw that he had stretched out his arms to her. Now it was her turn to be surprised. He hated chick flick moments, and even though he had just ordered her into his arms, there was something so...Oprah about the whole thing. She looked at him in stunned disbelief. He rolled his eyes at her reluctance. He reached over, grabbed her arms, and pulled her into his chest. He was so big and strong, and she was so small, that it took very little effort on his part to manhandle her like a child. However, Natalie discovered, to her shock, that she didn't mind feeling like a kid, not just now. He pulled her in tight, and rested his chin on the top of her head. He closed his eyes, just holding his baby girl for a moment. He gave her another squeeze, then held her away so he could look her directly in the face.

"Listen up," he said, taking her chin between his thumb and first finger, ensuring that she wasn't going to look away. Her green eyes widened. She was listening.  
"I have used so many of your tactics and ideas battling these evil assholes, that it's not even funny. I let you clean and handle all of our weapons. You know just about every trick Sammy and I have got up our sleeves. Now, if that isn't the definition of someone I trust, then I don't know what is." He looked deep into her eyes and saw the acceptance of his words reflected in them. "However, next time you want to prove you're trustworthy, I would not suggest sneaking out of the house. Got it?"

She laughed quietly. "Yes, sir."

"And don't forget this- I do trust you. Always will. Understand?"

"Yes, sir," she said with a smile.

"Good. Now, about your punishment..." Natalie sighed, her face falling. She knew she had it coming, but that didn't make her exactly eager to hear what he had in store for her.

"I'm guessing I'm grounded until further notice?" she asked, resigned to her fate.

"To start with," he said cheerfully, with his sideways smirk. She deflated a bit further.

"I want you up and running at six a.m." Her mouth dropped open. He raised an eyebrow at her.

"You got a problem with that?" he said, sternly. She snapped her mouth shut instantly.

"No, sir," she mumbled. He watched as her eyes sought the clock on Bobby's desk. Sure enough, it was two in the morning. She sighed again, but said nothing. _Wise choice, kid,_ he thought.

"You better get to bed. If you're late getting up, I'll make you do all the household chores for the rest of the week, too," he threatened. She pushed herself off the couch, and trudged towards the stairs.

"I'm going to fall asleep doing a 5K tomorrow, aren't I?" she muttered. Dean just threw her another lopsided grin.

"You can run to the store and pick up coffee. Get me one while you're at it." She shook her head, but couldn't keep the grin from lips. She kept walking towards the stairs, when he called out again.

"Hey," he said. She stopped, turned, and saw him giving her his usual grin. She actually let her smile come out for once. She knew exactly what he was doing with that grin. It was their favorite Star Wars routine- their way of saying I love you, without ever actually saying the words.

"I know," she said. "You too."

He shrugged and smiled. "I know."

 **Thank you so much for reading! Hugs!**


	5. Only Good

**Hello beautiful people! Here's the next installment of Natalie! As always, I'm open to any suggestions- leave me a PM or a review!**

 **Jenmm31- she rocks the house big time, y'all. I am so grateful for her encouragement and support, it's only thanks to her that I'm here at all. Show her some love by checking out her fabulous stories- One Day at A Time, and Growing Up, Winchester Style- great sis fics with her O/C Kate. And if you like daughter stories, she's got a couple adorable ones with Sam having a daughter named Emily. Check them out!**

 **Here we go! Please read, review, and ENJOY!**

 **A/N- In this story, Natalie is 3 years old**

"Natalie!" Sam said loudly. He was pawing though the blankets of his bed, looking for his phone. He had just set it down a moment ago, right before she suddenly scurried off and shut herself in the motel bathroom. He knew the three year old was inordinately fond of electronic gadgets- namely, his and Dean's cell phones. He walked over to the bathroom door and banged on it with his fist. He was careful not to bang too loudly- he didn't want to scare her- but he was almost positive that she had stolen his phone again.

"Open this door, right now, young lady."

"No!"

She was getting awfully fond of that word.

Natalie had reached an age where she was starting to test the two of them- pushing her boundaries just to see how far she could go. For some reason, she knew she couldn't get very far with Dean, so she didn't really act up that much with him. Sam, however, was a different story. In all her three year old brilliance, she had figured out that Uncle Sam was way more of a push over than Daddy. Sam would often let things slide that would have gotten her in trouble with her father. When he talked to Dean about it, Dean had just told him to "lay down the law, and she'll snap out of it". Only trouble was, when Dean spoke, Natalie listened. When Sam spoke, Natalie giggled. He could hear her giggling right now through the bathroom door. He twisted the knob- sure enough, she had locked it.

"You know you're not allowed to lock the door. Unlock it right now," Sam said, in what he considered to be an authoritative voice. He was met with silence. And the clicking of a cellular keyboard. He rolled his eyes. He could take out demons, vampires, werewolves, you name it. But a stubborn three year old girl was currently holding him by the short ones. Life was just not fair. He broke out the only weapon he had left at his disposal.

"Do you want me to tell your dad about this when he comes back?"

CLICK. The lock twisted, but the door remained shut. Sam pushed it open, to find the child sitting cross legged on the bathroom floor, clicking away on his phone. He stepped into the bathroom, and held his hand out.

"Natalie, you know better than to take my phone. I have told you a dozen times that it is not a toy. Give it back to me, now, please." Natalie lifted her eyes up to look at him. He had his serious face on, so she knew she probably had better do what he said. She stood up and slapped the cell phone into his hand, frowning at her displeasure of the situation. He just never wanted her to have any fun, that was all. Sam slipped the phone into his right pocket quickly.

"Thank you," he said.

"You NOT welcome," she retorted sassily. Sam bit his tongue- this was one of those testing moments. She never would have talked back to Dean like that. But he just didn't know how to make a three year old behave the way that Dean apparently did. Natalie pushed past him into the motel room. Sam found himself praying that Dean would finish up his on-sight research soon and get back here. When they were on a case, there was no way that they could leave a three year old in a motel room by herself, so they traded off going into the field, one at a time. They almost always found someone in town that they could leave Natalie with if the case required overnight work. So far, the system was working. Except for days like today.

Ever since Dean left this morning, Natalie had been in a foul mood. She wanted to play outside, but it had been raining for the last two days. That didn't deter her however, and she just didn't understand why Uncle Sam was being so mean and not letting her go out into the rain. She had been mollified for a short time by her coloring book and crayons, but when she had trouble staying inside the lines, she didn't want her uncle's help. She just threw the crayons across the room, leaving a waxy blue streak on one of the walls. Sam had tried to clean it off, but whatever they were making crayons out of these days, apparently it was meant to stick forever. He had finally given up, and plopped her down in front of the TV, hoping that Sesame Street would keep her attention long enough to hold her off from destroying the rest of the room. Of course, he wasn't that lucky- It hadn't worked long. Sam had been trying to look up information for their current case on his phone, when he suddenly looked up to see Natalie staring at him, a mischievous look on her face. He knew that look way too well. And from that moment till now, the cell phone battle had ensued.

Natalie had run out of the bathroom to the other end of the room, and was currently pawing through her coloring book, which was still sitting on the motel room table despite the crayon missiles earlier. She suddenly turned, and gave Sam a huge smile. He was completely thrown by the sudden change of attitude.

"Unca Sam, come lookit my pictures please!" she said, all sunshine and lollipops again. Sam stood stock still for a moment- he really didn't think he was ever going to be able to keep up with these mood swings. He walked over to the table, and leaned down. She scooted over to his right side, and jabbed her finger into the page she had scribbled on.

"Lookit real good. It's pretty!" she exclaimed. He leaned in closer, trying to make it look like he was "looking real good" as requested.

"That's really nice, Nat. Can you tell me about it?" he asked. He and Dean had both learned not to ask "What is it?" when it came to her coloring. She got extremely insulted when they couldn't make out the subtle artistic nuances of her coloring projects.

"Just lookit real hard at it," she insisted. Sam shook his head and smiled, and leaned down further. Suddenly, he heard her run away again, and slam the bathroom door, giggling. He stood up- what was that about? As the moment clicked together in his brain, he thought to himself, _No. Surely not._ He put his hand to his right pocket. It was empty.

That little brat had just pick pocketed him.

Damn Dean for teaching her that.

He stormed over to the bathroom again. He twisted the knob- she hadn't locked it. _At least she listened about that,_ Sam thought ruefully. Natalie had climbed into the bathtub, phone in hand, and was trying to unlock it again before she got caught.

"Alright. That's it," he said. He stepped in towards the tub. He put his hands under her arms, grabbing her, and yanked her up, setting her down on his hip. He reached over and pulled the phone out of her hands.

"Hey!" she yelled indignantly. Sam paid her no mind- he was done with her disobedience. He walked out of the bathroom, and dropped the phone onto his bed. He then carried Natalie over to the table, where he pulled a chair away, and turned it so it was facing the corner. He then plunked his niece into the chair.

"You stay seated, right there, young lady. You're in a Time Out," he said, with more sternness in his voice than he had ever used with her before. The tone was enough to make her stay in the chair, but not enough to stay seated. She twisted around, and got up on her knees, with her tiny hands on the back of the chair. Her large green eyes were staring at him- he had never yelled like that before, and, while it didn't exactly scare her, it surprised her.

"What is Time Out?" she said, a touch of fear in her voice as she took in his firm stance with his hands on his hips.

Sam looked down at her, trying to be intimidating, hoping that he could stay strong for once and actually enforce this. "If you disobey me, you have to sit facing the corner, without talking, for five minutes."

Natalie's face registered horror. To a three year old, five minutes was _forever._ "I don't like that!" she declared, but didn't get up.

"Well, I don't like when you don't do what you're told to," Sam said firmly. "Now turn around and face the corner."

Natalie's eyes narrowed. He could see the fight building up in her.

"NOW," he said sternly. For another split second, he watched as she wrestled with her choices, but then she gave him her full on pout, twisted back around, and sat down hard, crossing her little arms as she did so. Sam couldn't believe it. He had actually disciplined her. And she had listened to him. This was one for the books.

"Five minutes- no talking," he reminded her. She kicked the wall in response, but didn't say anything. He walked back to his bed and retrieved his phone. He set the alarm to go off in five minutes, and then sat back down on his bed. He watched her for a few moments. Other than occasionally kicking the wall, she was actually staying put and not talking. Sam mentally patted himself on the back.

Just then, the door opened, and Dean walked in the room.

"What's up, familia?" he asked. Natalie's head swung around at the sound of her father's voice. She immediately twisted back towards the room, and kneeled up in the chair. Dean had caught Sam's eye first upon walking in- he didn't see Natalie sitting in her chair. Sam just smirked and pointed to the corner. Dean looked at his daughter in surprise.

"What's going on here?" he asked as he slowly walked into the room.

From the corner, Natalie piped up angrily. "Unca Sam's a big mean meanie!"

"Hey," Sam said sternly, pointing a finger at her. "No talking in Time Out. Turn back around and sit down." She kneeled back down, hiding her face behind the chair back, but her eyes still peeped out over the top.

"Do what he says," Dean said to her, an edge to his voice. Upon hearing that tone, Natalie huffed, and dramatically flung herself back around, plopping back down, resuming her crossed arm pouting position. She kicked the wall twice, hard.

"Stop it, Natalie," Dean warned. She immediately dropped her legs and didn't move anymore. Dean turned to look back at his brother.

"So, you finally laid down the law huh? About time," he said to Sam in a low voice. "Is this...what did she call it?"

"Time Out."

"Yeah, okay. Is this Time Out thing working?"

"I think so. I guess we'll see."

"How did you even know to do that?"

Sam chortled. "Dean, I spent a lot of time in Time Out growing up."

"I don't remember that."

"Of course not. You never dared to disobey Dad. I don't remember you ever even getting sent to bed early- not once."

Dean was taken aback, but Sam was right. He had always been the good little soldier, whereas Sam was always the one pushing the boundaries. Dean jutted his chin out towards Natalie. "What did she do?"

"Took my cell phone."

"Again?" Dean asked, exasperated. He had lost track of the number of times that Sam had had to tell Natalie not to play with his phone. He turned back to look at her now, only to find her peeping at him from around the side of the chair. His eyes narrowed at her in warning, and she whipped back around, facing the corner once again.

"Twice. After using her crayons as WMD's this morning," Sam added, pointing to the streak on the wall. Dean looked at it a moment, then shrugged.

"Well, it's not the worst stain that these walls have seen," he commented dryly. Sam rolled his eyes. Just then, the alarm on his cell went off. Dean's eyebrows went up.

"What was that for?" he asked, pointing to the phone.

"Time Out clock," Sam said. Dean nodded in acknowledgement of Sam's good idea, then turned back towards Natalie.

"Natalie Grace, come here, right now," Dean said in his low, stern voice.

Natalie gulped. She hated being in this stupid chair, but she would rather had stayed here than walk towards her father, especially when he used her middle name. She slowly pushed herself off the chair, and made her way towards him, dragging her feet as she did so. When she finally reached him, she looked up slowly. His arms were crossed over his chest, and from the look on his face, she knew she was in big trouble.

"Do you know why you were in Time Out?" Dean said firmly.

Natalie twisted her foot into the carpet, and eventually squeaked out, "Yeah."

Dean shook his head. "No, don't give me that. When I ask you a question, you don't give me "yeah" or "no". You say "Yes Sir" or "No Sir". Do you understand me, little girl?"

"Yes...Sir," Natalie said. Dean nodded his head in approval.

"Good. Now why were you in Time Out?"

"Um...cause Unca Sam told me not to take da cell phone, and I did," she mumbled, looking back down at her twisting foot.

"That's right. Do you want to tell me why you were being bad and not listening to what your uncle told you to do?"

Natalie's head popped up. Her big green eyes were full of shock. "I was bad?" she asked, as if the concept had never occurred to her. Dean nodded.

"Uh huh," Dean said, looking her right in the eye. Her eyes grew larger. "Because you didn't listen. When you don't do something that Sam or I tell you to do, that's bad. Do you understand?"

Natalie's face dropped. She had just thought that her uncle was keeping her from the fun- she didn't know she was being bad. She looked at Sam, still seated on his bed. She ran over to him and pulled herself onto the bed, crawling across to him. When she reached him, she flung her arms around his neck.

"I sorry, Unca Sam! I didn't know I was bad," she said, her lower lip trembling. Sam had to smile at her innocence. He wrapped his arms around her and hugged her gently, before pulling her down to his lap.

"I forgive you, sweetheart. But just know that when your daddy or I tell you to do something, or not to do something, you need to be good and do what we say," Sam explained, reinforcing the idea to the little girl.

She nodded, then suddenly remembered. "Yes, Sir," she said. She turned around and looked at her father, then crawled off Sam's lap and moved towards Dean.

"I sorry Daddy. I will be only good now," she promised with three year old sincerity. Dean chuckled.

"Don't I wish that were the case, squirt," he said dryly. He reached down and picked her up, settling her on his hip. She nestled into his neck, winding her small arms around him.

"Well. How about that?" he said to Sam. Sam just nodded, hoping that this was the beginning of Natalie moving out of this testing the waters phase.

"Oh, and a major heads-up. She's getting really good at pick pocketing," Sam said with a withering look at his brother.

Dean just grinned.


	6. The Candy Man Part 1

**Hello you beautiful SPN family! Thank you all for the reviews, favorites, and follows- you make me do a happy dance whenever I see them!**

 **So I'm trying something new here- if you've read my other Natalie story (insert shameless plug here) called "Sweet Child Of Mine", then you know I write cases that the Winchesters deal with in three parts. This is the first part of a new case entitled "The Candy Man". I hope you enjoy!**

 **All the high fives and hugs in the world to Jenmm31. A fabulous friend, great collaborator, and muse! Thank you girl! Go show her fabulous stories some love- Dean and Sam have a sister named Kate, and she ROCKS, y'all. You can find her in my favorites. I promise you, it's worth it- her stories are wonderful.**

 **Here we go! Please read, review, and enjoy!**

 **PART 1**

 **A/N- In this story, Natalie is 12**

"Let's go- we're burning daylight!" Dean hollered into the open door of the motel room. Natalie quickly crammed the last of her school books into her duffle bag, and gently placed her old stuffed toy dog on top.

"Don't worry," she whispered to the golden retriever puppy. "I'll let you out as soon as I can." She quickly looked behind her to make sure no one had heard her. She was twelve, and would have been a bit embarrassed to be caught talking to her favorite childhood plaything, but she couldn't explain it- she always felt a bit guilty stuffing Tufty into a bag. She zipped it close, and slung it over her shoulder. She scanned the room quickly for any missed items. She caught a glimpse of something silver peeking out from under her dad's pillow. She rolled her eyes, and went to retrieve it. Sure enough, it was his .45. She stashed it in the small of her back quickly. Even in an empty parking lot, it still wasn't a good idea to walk out of a motel room holding a loaded gun. She made her way towards the Impala, carefully shutting the motel room door. Sam had gone to the front desk to check them out, while Dean was standing at the trunk of the car, double checking their hidden arsenal. When he was satisfied, he closed the bottom portion of the trunk. Natalie handed him her duffle bag.

"About time," he grumbled. "What took you so long?" Natalie gave him her best bitch face. _Damn Sam for teaching her that one,_ Dean thought. Natalie surreptiously pulled Dean's .45 out from behind her back, and offered it to him with raised eyebrows.

"Oh," he said. He took the gun from her, examined it for a minute, then turned and gave her his lopsided grin. "Thanks squirt." She couldn't help but giggle at his devil-may-care attitude over a loaded gun. She reached down to pick up the other duffle bags, but Dean waved her away. She just stepped back and looked towards the front office.

"What is taking him so long?" Natalie wondered out loud. Dean chuckled as he lifted their luggage into the trunk.

"I'm guessing he rented some movies while we were out the other night, and he's settling up." Natalie was confused. Usually they all watched movies together; Uncle Sam hadn't mentioned watching any without them.

"What kind of..." she started to say. Dean just gave her a knowing look. She caught his gist. "Oh...gross!" Natalie said, disgusted. Dean just gave an evil laugh. Just then, Sam walked out of the front door. As he was making his way towards the car, he saw his niece staring at him, a bitter look on her face. When he reached the car, he looked at her, wondering why he was getting the evil eye. What had he done? They had barely said five words to each other this morning- just going through the usual ritual of packing up and shipping out.

"What?" he asked her, innocently. She just made a disgusted noise, and climbed into the backseat of the Impala. Sam stood there, confused. He turned to Dean, who, for some reason, had his lopsided grin on.

"What was that all about?" he asked, wondering.

Dean just gave a theatrical shrug.

"The manager was just yakking my ear off- I couldn't get away," Sam explained. "Is Natalie ticked because it took so long?"

"Yeah, I'm sure it's something like that," Dean said, unable to keep the devilish twinkle from his eyes. He flung the last of their bags into the trunk, closed it, and began walking towards the driver's side. The evil grin on Dean's face finally registered in Sam's mind.

"Wait...what? Hang on. What did you tell her?" Sam said, immediately growing suspicious.

"Let's go!" Dean announced cheerfully, and slid behind the wheel.

"Dean," Sam started to say, with a warning in his voice, but just then Dean slammed the car door shut, cutting him off. Sam just huffed, and got into the passengers' side. Dean was already pawing through the old cardboard box holding his impressive collection of Hair Metal cassette tapes.

"Let's see," he was saying. "What sounds good for today? Ha!" he said, looking up at Sam. "See what I did there? SOUNDS good?" He snorted. "I'm hilarious." He resumed digging, heading towards the bottom of the box, looking for some tapes he hadn't played in a while.

"How about the radio?" Natalie piped up from the back seat. Dean just gave her a _don't be ridiculous_ look, and resumed digging.

"Come on, Dad! There is so much good music out there that didn't come from the Mesozoic Era," she said.

Sam smiled, once again impressed at her vocabulary. He turned to his brother and put on his best nursery rhyme voice. "That means the Dinosaur Age," he said patronizingly. Dean didn't even bother to look up.

"Shuddup," he said to his brother as he continued to paw through the box. He found an old Boston tape, and popped it into the player. Natalie groaned out loud.

"C'mon!" he said. "We haven't listened to this one in forever!"

"Dad, we've listened to them all so much, I can sing every single song on every tape. Backwards."

"And your life is more enriched because of it. You're welcome." He turned the key in the ignition, and the Impala roared to life, as did the sound system. He grinned- Carry On My Wayward Son was now pouring out of the speakers. Man, he _loved_ this song.

Before Dean could take off, Natalie scooted forward, flopping her arms down over the front seat. "I'm not saying these songs aren't awesome- I mean, come on. They're classics."

"Damn straight."

"But how about a station that plays both classic rock and contemporary rock?" she cajoled.

Dean turned in his seat and stared at her. "You're acting like this is your first day. You know how this works." He faced forward again, ready to pull out of the parking lot.

Not to be deterred, she pressed on. "Come on! There are some great bands out there! Pretty Reckless...Breaking Benjamin...Five Finger Death Punch..."

"Five Finger what now?"

"I'm just saying it wouldn't kill you to freshen up your collection."

He took his hands off the wheel, and slapped them down on his thighs. "Alright. Clearly we have to go over this again." He turned around to face his daughter. "House Rules," he commanded.

Natalie rolled her eyes, annoyed at having to once again recite this mantra. "Driver picks the music, Shotgun shuts his cakehole."

"Good girl," he said, turning back around, placing his hands on the steering wheel.

An annoyingly superior look crossed her face. "But I'm not shotgun," she replied, smirking. She sat back and crossed her arms, as if she just fired the cannon to end the war.

Without missing a beat, Dean continued. "House Rule Number Two. Driver picks the music, BACKSEAT shuts HER cakehole." He looked at her in his rearview mirror. "Say it," he said in a growling, joking manner, keeping eye contact with her through the mirror.

She gave an overdramatic sigh, and begrudgingly repeated after him, her eyes boring a hole in the mirror. "Driver picks the music, backseat shuts her cakehole." Dean nodded his approval, his snarky grin growing wider. She huffed and looked out the window, trying to keep her own grin in check, but failing miserably.

"You suck."

"I love you too, kitten."

Dean sped out of the parking lot. He was on his game, managing to nail them both within the first half hour of the day. Today was going to be a good one.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Later on that evening, they pulled into a motel in the town of their new case, just a couple of blocks away from the downtown area. Unlike most of the motels they were forced to stay at, however, this one actually looked half way decent. All the lights were actually working on the 'Welcome' sign; there was no peeling paint on the exterior walls. Hell, there wasn't even a hooker in the parking lot. Upon pulling into a space towards the front office, the three Winchesters all got out of the car and looked around.

"Huh. A motel that doesn't suck," Dean commented, looking around him. "Kinda like the eighth wonder of the world, isn't it?"

"I didn't even know places like this actually existed," Natalie said, awestruck.

"Say what you will- I'm going to take this as a good omen," Sam said optimistically. Natalie and Dean caught the other's eyes, and rolled them in tandem. Sam could be such a dork sometimes. They made their way towards the front office. The glass door had no cracks in it, and Natalie could clearly read all the words printed there. She couldn't remember the last time that had actually happened. She had often amused herself while her dad or uncle checked them in, using what was left of the wording on the peeling and old motel office doors, and making new sentences or filling in the missing letters to make hilarious new phrases. Seeing that one of her favorite forms of entertainment wasn't going to pan out here, she walked up to the front desk, where Dean and Sam were talking to the older gentleman behind the counter.

"Welcome to Heaven's Rock, Georgia! What brings you fellas to our neck of the woods?"

"Little family weekend trip," Dean said without missing a beat. The desk clerk nodded, and looked down at Natalie. She was a good foot shorter than Dean, so she was used to the long take from people when they looked from him to her.

"Of course! And hello to you too, princess!" he said, sounding exactly like Santa. Natalie gave him a huge smile and blushed- she was used to the slow look commenting on her height- she wasn't used to being called "princess". The older man winked at her.

"That's a wonderful smile your little girl has there," he said to Dean. Sam nudged Natalie gently.

"Thank you," she said, blushing even deeper. Dean quietly snorted to himself- it wasn't often Natalie was actually tongue-tied.

"Well, I'm sure that you all will find Heaven's Rock to your liking!" the clerk continued cheerfully, looking at Sam.

"Yeah, we saw this place on the map, and figured, Heaven's Rock- that's got to be good, right?" Sam said, starting his usual flattery-to-get-information-out-of-people bit. The older man nodded his head enthusiastically.

"Heaven's Rock- it's the closest thing you'll get to Heaven on Earth!" he recited, obviously pleased with his town's tag line. Just then, an absolutely lovely woman stepped out from around the corner.

"I don't know about that," Dean muttered with a grin under his breath. "Hi," he said loudly to her. She looked up from the stack of paper work she was holding. When she caught the gorgeous green eyes of the man who had just spoken, she gave him a warm smile. The older gentleman suddenly spoke.

"Oh, where are my manners? Fellas- and little lady of course-" he said, winking at Natalie again. "This is my daughter, Belle." The woman stepped forward, and shifted her eyes away from Dean to take in Sam and Natalie too.

"Beautiful name for a beautiful lady," Dean mentioned, his come-hither smile going full blast. Natalie's eyes shifted from the lady to her dad's face. She inwardly sighed. She knew exactly what that look was. He had often tried to curb himself out of decency towards his daughter, but he was only human after all. Natalie just rolled her weight back on her heels, and watched him work.

"Hey, you watch yourself now, mister!" said the old man, laughing, and shaking a finger at Dean. Dean threw up his hands in a mock _I surrender_ gesture, and made a frightened face, which seemed to please the clerk, who was still chuckling. "I'll let Belle check you folks in. Enjoy your time here! Be sure to check out our new down town stores. There's a candy store that just opened up; their chocolates are to die for!"

"A terrible price to pay, but we'll be sure to check it out," Sam said with a joking smile. The clerk pointed a finger at Sam in a _that was clever!_ gesture, and nodded warmly at them all. He made his way towards the back room. Belle stepped to the front counter in place of her father.

"Now- we have a wide variety of rooms- what would you gentlemen prefer?" she asked. Dean thought her voice sounded just like those chocolates her father had just mentioned.

"One room, two beds please," he answered, trying to make it sound as seductive as possible. Natalie's eyes narrowed. She really didn't like it when Dean tried to pick up girls right in front of her. She wanted to nip this in the bud, but she wasn't sure how she was going to pull that one off without getting her ass handed to her. Belle's smile widened at Dean's words, and she checked the computer.

"You're in luck! My favorite room in the place is open. Let's get you checked in." Sam handed her his fake ID and credit card. She took it and began typing away, making small talk as she did so.

"My dad is right- Heaven's Rock really is a sweet little forgotten spot. I think you folks will really enjoy it here. We are a very family friendly town," she said, with a caring look at Natalie.

Natalie knew her opening when she heard it; she jumped right on that. "That is so great to hear," she said in her best little girl voice. "It's so hard finding towns that accept my two Daddies and our alternative lifestyle." She gave Belle the widest, most innocent smile she could pull off. Out of her periphery, and to her delight, she saw her father roll his bottom jaw around on its hinges, as if swallowing the next pick up line he was going to try. She turned to him, and gave him the sweetest, most adoring look, with a hint of "I just owned you like a boss". Dean gave a forced laugh, and dropped his hand heavily on her shoulder.

"Yeah- it's uh...just nice to know we're in a...safe place for...our little girl," he said, forcing the words out to confirm what Natalie had just said. It was a Winchester Law- whenever someone started a lie to a stranger; you said whatever it took to continue that lie. It was more convincing that way, rather than three people trying to get their own version of the story out. He was stuck in a trap made by his own rules, and was not exactly thrilled over it. He pulled Natalie in front of him, pinching her shoulder slightly.

"Hey- why don't you find yourself some more trouble to go get into, eh?" he said, subtly emphasizing the word "more". He reached back and gave her, what looked to anyone else, like an affection pat on the bottom as she passed.

Natalie pressed her lips together and made a low sound in her throat as the stinging smack landed. She looked over her shoulder and gave him as much of an annoyed look as she dared. He had totally swatted her that hard on purpose. Dean was just looking back at her with a smirk, as if to say, _Tit for Tat, kiddo._

"Aww, that is so sweet!" Belle gushed. She looked back and forth from Sam to Dean. "How long have you two been married?" she asked. They both stammered for a moment, trying to come up with the next thing to say. Natalie smirked. _Worth it,_ she thought, walking away, rubbing her stinging backside.

*SPN SPN SPN*

They had dropped off their stuff in the room. They were, once again, impressed by the lack of debris and stains that usually littered these kinds of places. The fold out couch actually folded out- something that thrilled Natalie to no end. She had always slept on the couches in whatever room they ended up in. Except for a few times when she was little, during thunderstorms or after a bad dream, she didn't sleep in motel beds- she didn't like them. They felt too weird to her. But fold out couches- now that was heaven. She plopped down on hers now with a contented sigh, and unzipped her bag. She pulled her stuffed dog out of it, and placed him gently next to the arm of the sofa. She was too old (in her mind) to sleep cuddling him anymore, but she still liked him near. When she looked back at her open bag, she saw her Greek literature book towards the top. She quickly zipped the duffle back up, hoping against hope that her uncle would forget about the homework he had assigned her for tonight. She stood up from her bed.

"Hey Dad," she said. Dean looked up from unpacking his own bag. "If you give me the salt I'll get going on the windows." Dean reached into the side pocket of his other duffle- the one loaded with all kinds of weapons- and retrieved the cylinder of salt. Barely looking at her, he tossed it in the air. She caught it with perfect precision. Dean smiled to himself- they were getting better and better at that. Natalie started making careful salt lines on all of the windows. Sam was still outside, rummaging through the trunk, so she didn't do the doors just yet. She popped the top of the salt container, closing it. She looked up at her dad.

"Done," she said, smiling satisfactorily.

"Good girl," he said, reaching out his hand. She tossed the salt container back to him, flipping it through the air. Dean also caught it single handedly. They looked at each other, identical grins on their faces.

"Score!" they said at the same time. Natalie walked over and high fived him. Her Dad was so cool. Just then, Sam walked through the door with the last of the bags. He looked around the room.

"Wow," he said. "Even the rooms are nice here." And he was right. The walls were actually painted instead of covered with peeling wallpaper, and they were the nicest shade of royal blue, with a soft silver detailing on the crown molding and base boards. There was a lovely picture of a vacationing family hung on the wall, the frame painted in a shade to match the room's silver detailing. Sam studied the picture for a moment. The family in the picture looked like they were having the time of their lives, enjoying a picnic on a sunny day and laughing. The two older kids were listening to a shared IPod, while the parents were laughing at the adorable antics of the youngest. Sam looked at the picture curiously. Not your typical motel art, but he couldn't deny that it made a nice change from the usual ugly flower bouquets and fruit baskets that normally adorned the walls of places like this. He turned back around to his brother and niece.

"Belle told me about a great locally owned diner down the road- said we should check it out," he commented.

"Sweet," Dean said, his stomach rumbling. "Come on, kids, wheels up." He rubbed his hands together in anticipation. If this was what the room and people were like in Heaven's Rock, he couldn't wait to try the food.

*SPN SPN SPN*

A half hour later, they were seated at a quaint little restaurant. Belle had been right- this place was great. Even though it was only about seven o clock at night, the restaurant was pretty empty, save for a couple seated on the other side of the room, and a family that was paying and heading out. But that definitely wasn't a commentary on the food.

"Oh my god," Dean moaned, stuffing another bite of his burger into his mouth. "This burger is so good, I want to ask it on a second date." He shoved a couple of French fries in without bothering to finish swallowing his previous bite. Natalie didn't comment- she was too busy digging into her grilled shrimp salad. Even Sam was speechless- the lasagna was killer, and he was seriously contemplating licking the plate clean when he was done.

Natalie finally came up for air, and sighed contentedly. "Totally made the right call on this place. I mean, come on- it's called the "Mom-And-Pop Stop". That's adorable." She looked around the room, approvingly. "You know, other than the mysterious disappearance that just happened here, I'd say this place is pretty darn near perfect."

Sam looked around quickly, but no one appeared to have heard her. The young couple on the other side of the diner were clearly too wrapped up in sharing their milkshake to pay attention to what his niece had just said. He looked back at Natalie, a stern look crossing his face.

"You need to be more careful about saying stuff like that so loudly," he scolded.

"He's right, you know," Dean said, his mouth still full.

Natalie heaved a sigh. "I'm sorry," she apologized, looking down. "I'll be more careful." Sam nodded his approval, then went back to his plate. Dean picked up his beer and took a long swig. When he was done, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Okay, let's review this case," he said. "Quietly," he added, with a pointed look at his daughter. She squirmed a bit, and shoved another forkful of salad in her mouth. Sam cleared his throat, and took a sip of water before beginning, making sure to keep his voice down.

"A couple of months ago, in upstate Georgia, guy goes missing from his bed late one night. No blood, no signs of foul play, just gone."

"And his wife said that she didn't hear anything. She was woken up by a flash of light, and that's when she discovered that he was hasta la vista," Natalie piped up, making sure her tone was lower as well.

Dean nodded at both, encouraging them to keep going, while he kept stuffing his face. Sam continued.

"Now here in Heaven's Rock, two nights ago, same thing happens. This time, a teenage boy disappears. Same deal- no signs of a struggle or anything. The neighbors saw a flash of light, according to the article we read, and that was it."

Dean nodded, thinking. "What do you think it is?" he asked them both.

Sam shrugged. "I'm not sure. I was thinking angels at first-"

"Because of the light," Dean interrupted.

"-but that isn't really their style," Sam said, finishing his sentence. "I mean, they don't exactly kidnap people out of their beds when they need help from a human."

Dean nodded, then looked at Natalie. "Any word from Cas?"

She shook her head. "Not a peep. He's not answering a summon, or his cell phone for that matter. Why does he even keep that thing? He never freaking answers it," she complained. Both brothers shrugged- it was best not to look too deeply into why Castiel did anything.

"What was the other thing about the kid? Something about the house he was in?" Dean asked, playing dumb, trying to see if Natalie remembered an important detail that they had caught in the article.

"The boy was home alone- his parents are allegedly on some second honeymoon cruise, and left him here," she said, without missing a beat. Dean smiled. He looked at Sam.

"Did you get the address?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. I figured we could check the place out tomorrow night. Let's check around town in the morning, see if we can dig anything up?" he suggested, scraping the last of the sauce from his plate with his fork.

"Sounds good to me. What do you think, squirt?" he said, looking at his daughter. She smiled and shrugged. She was always up for anything. She reached over to her dad's plate to steal a fry. He gently slapped her hand away.

"Yeah, I don't think so," he said, grabbing another handful of fries and stuffing them in his mouth. She looked at him, incredulous.

"Come on, it's just one fry."

"If you wanted fries, you should have gotten them, instead of that rabbit food crap."

She rolled her eyes. If Dean had his way, she would be eating nothing but Bacon Cheeseburgers and Apple Pie. "I didn't want a whole plate of them, I just want one." She reached over again, and Dean yanked the plate out of her reach.

"No! Mine!" he said, in his growling playful way. He pointed a finger in her face, warning her to stay away, and she fell back against her seat, giggling. "That's what I thought," he said. Just then, the diner door opened, causing the bell over it to ring. Natalie turned to look. Her eyes grew wide.

"Wow," she breathed. "That woman is beautiful." Dean immediately swiveled to look. Natalie quickly reached over and grabbed a handful of fries, and popped them into her mouth before her dad could catch on. When Dean saw that the person who walked through the door was actually a rather large, balding, middle aged man, Sam's ensuing snicker alerted him to the ruse. He turned back around to catch his daughter, chewing triumphantly.

"Seriously?" he said.

"Do you want me to put 'em back?" she said, opening her mouth to show him the half chewed stolen fries. Sam laughed openly at the look on Dean's face.

"Now, little missy, it's not polite to talk with your mouth full," teased the waitress as she waddling over to them. The waitress, whose name was Matilda, looked like she was straight out of a Betty Crocker cookbook, complete with iron grey curls, a gently wrinkled face, and big squishy shoes. Natalie grinned, and swallowed.

"Yes, ma'am," she said, her grin still a mile wide.

"See?" Dean said, pointing to the lady.

"And you should really learn to share, young man," the waitress continued, pursing her lips in amusement and looking at Dean, who was now squirming. She turned to Sam with a motherly look.

"You should really teach these two some manners," she said, a twinkle in her eyes. Sam chuckled.

"Believe me, I'm trying," he said. The lady looked at Natalie again, who shrugged and giggled in the cutest way.

"Sweetheart, you have a beautiful smile," she commented. Natalie blushed and ducked her head again.

"Thank you," she mumbled, unable to keep the smile off her face, but charmingly embarrassed by the compliment. The woman appeared to be tickled pink by them.

"Oh, I like you all- you're good people," she said, honey in her voice. "You remind me of my own sons. Except I don't have a granddaughter- not just yet." She reached into the pocket of her apron, and pulled out a well worn photograph of a little boy with dark hair and beautiful blue eyes. She showed it off proudly.

"That's my grandson, Aiden. He's just about five years old, and he's got enough energy to light up this whole town!" she said, chuckling.

"Yeah, I remember those days," Dean said with a grin. She patted him on the shoulder, and pocketed the photo.

"Now what would you all like for dessert?" she asked. "Cook just made an apple pie that will set your heart a flutter!"

Dean stared at her like she was an angel. "Matilda- you just said the magic words," he said, his own charm factor turning on. The waitress nodded, and walked away.

"Homemade apple pie- kid, it doesn't get any better than this," he said, reaching over and ruffling Natalie's hair.

"You said it. And when we get back to the motel, I just want to watch TV until my eyes fall out," she said.

Sam gave her a pointed look. "After you finish your homework, of course," he said, his eyebrows raised. Natalie opened up her mouth to argue.

"Don't even try it," Dean said, before taking another swig of his beer. He hadn't even turned to look at her- he didn't have to. Natalie just crossed her arms and sat back. At least she still had apple pie to look forward to.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Later that night, just past eleven, after the Winchesters and the rest of the charming little town were all sleeping, a stray tom cat walked along the quiet streets of the suburbs of Heaven's Rock. The night was so quiet that you could almost hear the cat's paws on the pavement. The cat looked around, searching for prey in the darkness. All the houses on the street were still; barely a light in the window here or there. The cat squinted its eyes against the blackness, searching for food.

It began padding its way towards the house at the end of the cul de sac, thinking it had seen some movement by one of the perfectly manicured bushes out front. As it was making its way towards the house, a sudden flash of blinding light from a house behind it startled it into whipping around, its tail puffed up to twice its normal size. It stayed perfectly frozen, on alert, as the flash of light dissipated and the street was once again covered in darkness. It watched warily as a light flipped on in the house that had suddenly lit up. The cat scrambled for cover in the darkness when it heard the screams.


	7. The Candy Man Part 2

**Hello SPN Family! I'm going to make this short and sweet- thank you all for the follows and reviews. You guys rock so hard. Please let me know what you think of these stories! I'm always interested in requests!**

 **Major shout out and love to Jenmm31- the Sam to my Dean! Thank you girl! Go check out her fabulous sis fic stories- you can find them under my Favorites!**

 **Read, Review, but above all ENJOY!**

 **A/N- If you haven't, please go back and read the previous chapter- this is a three part story, with this chapter being part 2. It will make a lot more sense if you've read the previous chapter :)**

The Winchesters pulled up to the picture perfect subdivision, parking their car along the curb. Other than the few cop cars, everything seemed perfectly normal- nothing to suggest the evil that had befallen the neighborhood the night before. Sam, Dean, and Natalie had gone back to the Mom and Pop Stop for breakfast, only to find it closed. Luckily, there was another restaurant right across the road. The food wasn't nearly as good, but the waiter there certainly liked to talk. He told them (without any prompting) that a child had been abducted last night. The waiter told them all about the crazy stories- that the neighbors saw a flash of light that seemed to come from inside the house, and that they were all now convinced that it was either a gas explosion or an alien abduction. The waiter didn't mention the connection with other teen's disappearance from three days ago. As the waiter gabbed on, Sam and Dean exchanged a look, knowing that this needed to be checked out, now. They finally managed to get the address of the missing kid's place out of the guy. They knew where they were all heading next.

Dean and Sam, already wearing their black Fed suits, began walking towards the house. Natalie rolled down the window in the backseat. There wasn't much that she could do here- she was much too young to pretend to be working for FBI, but she could observe what was happening around the crime scenes from the car. If anyone asked who she was, she could usually get away with the whole Take-Your-Daughter-To-Work-Day excuse. She snorted to herself- man, people were dumb enough to believe anything. She watched her dad and her uncle talk to the cops that were on the front lawn of the two story house for a moment, then they went inside. As Dean was going through the front door, he turned his head to make sure she was still in the car. Upon catching his eye, she nodded. He nodded once back at her, then disappeared inside the house.

She started scanning the surrounding areas, looking for anything strange or unusual. The search didn't take very long- there was absolutely nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing at all. It was obvious that this neighborhood was extremely well taken care of. There didn't even seem to be any lawn clippings on the sidewalks. Natalie scanned the almost-too-perfect lot once again. What was with this place? Her eyes landed on a shorter middle aged woman, who looked familiar. She thought for a moment, and when it came to her, she didn't even hesitate to climb out of the car and make her way towards the lady.

"Matilda?" she called out, gently. The lady turned around at the sound of her name. Natalie had been right- it was the waitress from the diner last night.

"Oh, hey, honey," Matilda greeted her, but the usual vim and verve were gone from her voice. "You were at the diner last night, weren't you?"

"Yes, ma'am, that was me," Natalie said, grateful that she recognized her.

"What are you doing here? Are your daddies around?"

Natalie nodded, remembering to keep up the little lie she'd told, and expounded on it. "Yes ma'am. They're actually investigating right now- they work for the FBI."

"Aren't you all supposed to be on a weekend vacation?" Matilda asked with an attempt at a smile.

Natalie shrugged, and returned the smile full force. "They can't stay away from work, it seems." She took a step closer towards the matronly lady. "If you don't mind me asking, what are you doing here?"

Matilda's wrinkled brown eyes filled with tears. "My grandson went missing last night." Natalie gasped, and reached out a hand to touch the older woman's arm.

"I'm so sorry," she said, her voice full of sorrow. She hated this part of the job. "Do the police have any leads?"

Matilda just shook her head. "None at all. I don't know if that's a blessing or a curse. They've got literally nothing to work with. All my son said was that his wife saw a flash of light coming from Aiden's bedroom, around 11 o clock last night. She went in and turned the light on, but Aiden was just...gone." A couple tears slipped down the lady's weathered cheeks. She seemed to start for a moment, then looked at Natalie.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't be telling this kind of thing to a little girl- it'll give you nightmares," she said, concern etched in her face. Natalie smiled back gently.

"My dads work for the FBI- believe me, I've heard it all. It's okay," she said, comforting the grieving grandmother. Matilda just nodded, seemingly grateful for the support, even if it was from a young girl. She reached across herself and took Natalie's hand, which was still on her arm. The moment that her hand touched Natalie's, a warm sensation spread through Natalie- a wave of...something...she wasn't sure what it was. All she knew was that it felt safe and inviting. She looked at Matilda, only to find Matilda looking at her, curiosity in both sets of their eyes. Matilda began speaking, pouring her heart out, like she just couldn't help herself.

"Trevor and Amy- my son and my daughter-in-law- are just beyond grieved. Amy isn't able to have children anymore, and they're both so terrified that they will never see their only son again. Aiden was so difficult to come by. They tried IVF four times before she finally got pregnant. It's put them in such a financial bind, you wouldn't believe it. Each treatment alone can cost upwards of twelve thousand dollars. I tried to help them out, but Trevor won't hear of it. He says they need to get through this on their own. They've been fighting more and more lately. I actually picked up Aiden last week and he spent 3 nights with me while they screamed at each other. They didn't use to be like this. They used to be madly in love, never fought, not even once, but between their debt and their lousy jobs and the stress of raising a child, they've just been jumping down each other's throats recently." Matilda withdrew her hand from Natalie's, and seemed to come out of her trance. Her face registered shock as she realized just how much she'd split to a stranger. Not only that, but to a child. She stammered for a moment.

"Honey, please don't repeat any of that," she babbled. "I don't know what made me say it, but I don't want the cops thinking that Trevor and Amy had anything to do with this. They love that boy with all their hearts," she said, pleading.

Natalie just blinked for a moment- the strange incident hadn't fully settled in her mind following the onslaught of information. She shook out of her own trance, and hurried to reassure the older woman.

"No, no, of course not. I...I wouldn't dream of it," Natalie stammered, still as thrown as Matilda. She desperately wanted to ask her if she felt the same warm wave that she had felt when their hands touched, but Matilda was far too upset about what she had just spilled that it didn't seem appropriate to pry further. She wanted to reach out and touch her again, just to comfort her, but then got too self conscious.

"Again, I'm so sorry, and I really hope they find Aiden," Natalie said, attempting to back away gracefully. Matilda's face smoothed back out into a gentle, yet sad smile.

"Thank you sweetheart," she said, before turning and walking back towards the house. Natalie walked back to the Impala as fast as she could without running. What the hell had just happened? Just then, she saw Dean and Sam exiting the house. Dean's eyes narrowed a bit when he saw her outside of the car, but he knew she probably had a good reason for not staying inside like he told her to. _Well, she better have a good reason,_ he thought to himself.

They reached the car about the same time as Natalie. "You okay?" Dean asked, a slight undercurrent to his voice. Natalie nodded.

"Yeah," she said. She shook her head, and then looked at her dad. Both he and her uncle were staring at her.

"Yes. Yes sir," she said, adding the last part on quickly. "It's just...I saw Matilda, you know, from the diner last night..."

Sam nodded grimly. "Yeah, we figured out that she was part of the family when we interviewed the parents. Did she say anything interesting?" he asked.

Natalie shrugged. "Stuff that they probably told you already. The mom and dad have been fighting a lot lately. Matilda actually took Aiden for a couple days last week because they were fighting so much. The parents are in a ton of debt..." she trailed off as she saw the surprised looks on both of their faces. "What? Didn't they tell you any of this?"

Dean shook his head. "No, they didn't mention that they had been fighting. But they were completely on the same side when it came to the kid."

Natalie nodded. "Yeah, Matilda said that too. Said they wouldn't do anything to hurt him."

"Well, I for one agree with her- I don't think the parents are involved," Sam said.

"So what is it we're dealing with then? Random guys of all different ages just start disappearing, flashes of blinding light, but no signs of a struggle..." Dean said. He thought as hard as he could, going through all the demons and spirits and supernatural creatures he knew of in his head, but coming up with nothing. He shook his head, frustrated. "Guess we're off to the library," he said grimly.

"Yeah, about that. Apparently, there's no library in this town," Sam said, clearly annoyed at the fact. Dean started.

"What do you mean there's no library? This is like freaking Stepford Wives here- they've got to have a library."

"Well, they don't, alright? I asked for directions, and apparently, they just don't have one."

"What about a bookstore? Do they have one of those here?" Natalie asked. Sam turned to her with a smile.

"My next question exactly. Yes, there is a bookstore in the downtown area."

"Alright then. That's our next stop," Dean said, climbing into the car.

*SPN SPN SPN*

They pulled up to the bookstore, which looked like a gingerbread house right out of an enchanted forest. There was even a small display in the front window of a happy family of dolls, reading over a collection of children's books. Meant to be endearing, the whole display came across as rather creepy. Dean stared through the window.

"Man, what is _with_ this place? It's like everybody's the perfect friggin' family, with all the picket fence and apple pie crap that only exists in Disney movies," he grumbled.

The three of them walked into the bookstore. Natalie took off, looking for a section on ancient creatures and lore. Sam was going to try to find a spiritual section, and see if there were any books there that may help them. Dean decided to just wander aimlessly down the small aisles, pulling books off the shelf at random. After a few minutes, he found himself in the adult section. His eyes scanned the shelves, and landed on a book that he'd heard about, but never read. Intrigued at last, he pulled the book off the shelf, and began thumbing through it. It didn't take him too long to become completely engrossed in the whole thing.

Sam, having had no luck in the spiritual section, began looking for him. When he finally found Dean, poring over a book, he stopped. He had never seen Dean so into a book that wasn't lore. He walked up to him.

"What in the world are you looking at?" he asked his brother.

Dean held it up so Sam could read the title- 'The Joy of Sex'. Sam rolled his eyes. Dean was lit up like a Christmas tree.

"Dude," Dean said, looking at Sam excitedly. "That whole reading thing that you like to do? Yeah, I totally get it now."

"From 'The Joy of Sex'?" Sam asked condescendingly. Dean nodded enthusiastically.

"I didn't even know that some of this was possible!" he said. He turned away from Sam, and continued flipping through the pages.

"How is this helping the case, Dean?" Sam asked, exasperated.

Dean looked up, smiled his lopsided grin, and shrugged. "Well, Sammy, it's not hurting it," he countered, and dove back into the book. Sam just sighed. He spotted a saleslady at the end of the row.

"Excuse me, miss?" he called out. She stopped, and began walking towards him.

"Yes sir? Can I help you?" she said in a pleasantly perky voice.

"Yes please. I'm looking for books on Greek mythology? Can you point me in the right direction?" Since he was coming up empty handed with things to do with the case, he might as well pick up a new book to start teaching Natalie. They were right in the middle of Greek literature, and it would be worth it to study the gods and goddesses further, not just for her school education, but for her hunter's education as well.

"Sure thing! You're almost there- just one aisle over," she said, pointing Sam in the right direction. Sam thanked her, and the lady moved on. He turned around to see if Dean was still reading his new found treasure. Dean had the book flipped upside down, intently studying a picture that Sam didn't even want to think about. He shook his head, and began walking towards the Greek literature section.

A few minutes later, Natalie came around the corner, looking for Dean. When she saw him, she called out. "Hey Dad!" She began walking quickly down the aisle towards him. Her voice shook him out of his catalogue of karma sutra. He quickly slammed the book shut and shoved it back onto the shelf. He cleared his throat, and began walking towards her, not wanting her to see what section he was just in.

"So, uh, did you find anything?" he asked gruffly, trying to sound like he had been doing nothing but the research they came in here for. Natalie shook her head, annoyed.

"Nada. What were you reading?" she asked curiously. Dean just laughed awkwardly and shook his head.

"It was nothing. Let's go find your uncle." He took her by the arm, and led her further away from the section he was just in. They got into the next aisle, when he noticed her feet were dragging a bit.

"What's up, kid? You okay?" he asked, looking down at her.

She shrugged despondently. "Not really. I just...I can't stop thinking about Matilda and Aiden," she said, her voice catching. Dean sighed. This was always the worst part of the job. It was even worse watching his daughter have to deal with it.

"Yeah, I know, squirt," he said. "But hey. We'll find Aiden. That's what we do. And we don't give up until he's safe, right?"

She smiled and looked up at him. "Right."

He smiled back. "That's my girl."

After they paid for their purchases, they made their way back out into the sunshine. Immediately, their noses were assaulted by the most incredible combination of chocolate, caramel, and cookies.

Natalie inhaled deeply. "Oh, man, do you guys smell that?"

"How could you not?" Dean groaned. "It's like dessert heaven calling to me."

Sam pointed to the store on the corner. "It's coming from there," he said. Natalie looked up at the cotton candy colored sign that read "The Candy Man".

"I wonder if that's the new candy store that the desk clerk was telling us about," Sam said, looking curiously at the establishment. Dean rubbed his hands together.

"Only one way to find out, right? C'mon." He took off down the block, Natalie and Sam trailing behind.

When Dean opened the door for them, the amazing smell got even stronger. Natalie felt like she was floating on a cloud of caramel, wrapped in a chocolate chip sea. All in all, not the worst feeling in the world. She looked all around her at the brightly colored shelves stacked with boxes of all kinds of sugary goodness. Cakes, candies, cupcakes- they were all there, beautifully displayed.

"Wow," she said, "It's the world's Most Beautiful Diabetic Coma." Dean snorted at her joke, which made her smile. She loved being able to make him laugh.

"Can I help you?" came a pleasant voice from behind the counter. Natalie peeked around the display. A tall man stood, in a blue and white striped shirt, with a flour-covered pink apron on. He was holding a tray of what looked like fresh caramel clusters.

"Oh, come now, don't be shy! Step right up to the Candy Man!" the gentleman said, chuckling. Natalie walked over slowly towards him, Dean staying right behind her. Sam walked up to the counter with them, but stayed a step behind, continuing to look all around him.

"What brings you folks in today?" the man asked. Before they could answer, he spoke again. "Let me guess- the smell." Both father and daughter laughed, and nodded. The man closed his eyes for a moment, then puffed out his chest proudly.

"Well, that's what we're going for! My name is Rett, but you can call me 'The Candy Man'!" Rett said with importance.

"The Candy Man," Dean commented. "So is that like a family name, or...?"

"Ah, this one," Rett said, pointing at Dean. "You are clever, sir, very clever."

"Well, thank you," Dean said jauntingly. Natalie giggled. Rett's eyes turned to her.

"And you have a beautiful smile, my dear," he said, staring at her. Natalie's eyes shifted to her dad- how often had she heard that in the last two days? Apparently, Dean didn't think there was anything weird about hearing it again- she did have a beautiful smile, after all.

"Thank you," she said politely.

"You're welcome," Rett said, still staring at her. He stared so long she got a bit uncomfortable. She finally cleared her throat, which seemed to snap him out of his trance. He shook his head, and then just seemed to notice the tray there.

"You'll have to forgive me for standing here in my baking apron- normally we have everything squared away by the time we open."

"Oh, no worries, we don't want to disturb you," Sam said kindly. Rett nodded.

"We've fallen behind a bit. Unfortunately, one of our employees went missing a couple of days ago," Rett said sadly.

"Missing?" Dean asked, stepping in a bit closer.

"Yes, one of my best employees. He just stopped coming to work. And it's a shame- he really was a wonderful boy."

"What was his name?" Sam asked nonchalantly.

"Jonathan," Rett said. Sam and Dean exchanged a quick look- same name as the missing teenager. "Jonathan Deards. Did you fellas know him?"

"Ah, no, we're just in town, visiting," Sam said quickly.

Rett nodded wisely, and continued with his story. "So until he shows back up, right now, it's just me and Anthony."

"Is Anthony another one of your employees?" Dean asked. Rett nodded. Just then, a tall, awkward teenage boy appeared from the back room. He was slouching, apparently completely uncomfortable in his over sized hands and feet. Rett nodded to the boy.

"Anthony- why don't you show this...lovely young lady...the new collection of Jaw Breakers?" Rett smiled once again at Natalie. "They come in flavors that you wouldn't even begin to dream of!"

Natalie smiled again- she was still weired out by the way Rett was looking at her, but tried to move past it. "Um, okay," she said. "Hey Anthony," she called to the teen. "Lead the way!" she said, her smile coming back. Anthony began trudging off, and she hurried to catch up with him.

"And there's that smile again! Absolutely beautiful!" Rett sighed. Natalie nodded her head politely, but as soon as her back was to him, she smothered the smile. _Weirdo City,_ she thought. She followed Anthony towards the side of the store.

"So are you and Jonathan the only employees here?" Natalie asked, making what looked like to anyone else, small talk.

Anthony nodded. When he opened his mouth to speak, Natalie saw that he had extreme amounts of dental work in place. "Yeah. He was a pretty cool dude. He was supposed to work a shift yesterday, but I guess he just forgot. Or was hung-over or something." Natalie's eyebrows reached her hairline. Usually people didn't just immediately volunteer this kind of information to a twelve-year-old, but Anthony didn't seem to give a rat's ass who she was.

"Oh really?" she said, praying that all the acting skills her father and uncle possessed would somehow make their presence known in her DNA at this moment. "Big party guy, huh?"

Anthony shrugged, like he just didn't really care. "Yeah. His parents are always leaving him home alone. They go off cruising and stuff. It's like they've totally forgotten that he exists. But then he gets the whole house to himself, and gets to do whatever he wants, you know? Like, he totally wins all the way around."

"Wow," Natalie said, struck at the thought. Man, her father and her uncle only left her alone if they were on a hunt at night, and only then, they had strict rules about staying inside the motel with all the doors locked and the shades drawn. She wondered what that kind of lack of supervision felt like. She loved being on the road, and she loved being able to hunt (well, as much as Sam and Dean would actually let her do), but she was starting to wonder what would happen if she tried hunting on her own. She never brought it up- she knew her dad would have a coronary if she mentioned it- but it was on the back burner of her mind.

Anthony was nodding in response to her. "Hey-"' he said suddenly. "How old are you?"

Natalie grinned her smarmy grin. "Sorry, I think I'm too young for you, Tex."

Anthony just gave her a sarcastic snort in response. "Ha ha. No, I'm asking because...well, here." He looked around covertly, and shoved a small bag into her hands. Natalie examined it closely. It was a small cellophane bag with some kind of round, red candy in it.

"What are they?" she asked.

"Super Atomic Fire Balls," Anthony said with a smug look. "These things will blow your face off. Take 'em." He looked at her approvingly. "We're not supposed to sell them to minors."

"They're that bad?" Natalie said, her eyes growing wide as her Winchester Prank Brain switched into high gear.

"Uh huh. But I think that's dumb. And you look like you would know how to use them well."

Natalie turned to Anthony with a superior smile. "My friend, you have made a superior assessment."

"What?" he asked, confused.

"Never mind. Thanks for the candy," she said, pocketing it.

"Here's a tip- tell people they're Sweet Cherry Drops. They fall for it every time."

"Will do!"

He just nodded, and slouched away. Natalie stared at him for a minute. Guy just dumps information, hands her candy, and walks away without another word? This whole place was weird, and starting to give her the creeps. Something just wasn't right about all this pleasantness. She made her way back to the front counter where the boys and Rett were still talking.

"...and so we opened up this place not too long after we moved here!" Rett was saying. He caught Natalie's eye as she walked back up.

"Well well! What did you think of our new Jawbreakers?" he asked in a fatherly voice.

Natalie started for a moment, then the fake _I'm totally pulling this out of my ass_ smile took over. "Very...colorful," she said. Rett clapped his hands, like she had said the perfect thing.

"Wonderful, wonderful! Was Anthony very helpful to you?"

"Um, yes. Yes sir."

Rett nodded. "Good. He can be such a lazy boy sometimes. Not like Jonathan. Jonathan was so polite and so good with the kids that came in." Rett looked at boys. "The kids that come in here are just the sweetest, kindest things on the planet." He looked at Natalie again. "You fit right in here, dear! Which one of you two does she belong to?"

Dean raised his hand. "Guilty," he said with a grin. Rett beamed down at them.

"Children are a gift, you know. My wife and I have two of our own, and we're trying for a third."

"Best of luck to you," Dean said. He put a hand on top of Natalie's head. "This one is about all I can keep up with these days." Natalie shrugged his hand off playfully. He just grinned at her.

"Well, then, why don't you all take some of our famous caramels with you? To keep up your energy! On the house!" Rett said, proffering the tray.

"Don't mind if I do," Dean said, reaching for one. He popped it into his mouth, and chewed. "Oh. Wow. These are just as good as everyone says."

"Well thank you! If you don't mind my asking, who gave us such a good review?" Rett offered the tray to Natalie, who picked one up, bit it in half, and melted at the taste.

"The desk clerk over at the motel. Said we shouldn't miss coming here, and boy, was he right," Dean said, popping another candy into his mouth.

"You'll have to come back some time and try our chocolates! One bite and you'll be hooked for life!" Rett said proudly. Dean just nodded awkwardly.

"Ah. Well, thank you so much for your time," he said. "Come on, guys." Dean headed towards the front door.

Rett gave them a pleasant wave back. "It was my pleasure! You all be sure to come back at any time!" His eyes lingered on Natalie for another second. Natalie instinctively reached for Dean's hand as they were going through the door.

Dean felt her slip her tiny hand into his large one, and was surprised. Natalie hadn't held his hand in public since she was ten. He looked down at her. "What's going on with you?" he asked.

Natalie, realizing that she was holding her father's hand, dropped it suddenly. "Um...nothing, I'm fine. It's just...did anyone else get creeped out back there?" she asked hesitantly.

Sam and Dean exchanged a look. Sam answered. "I know what you mean. There was something weird about Rett- he almost looked familiar. Did you guys catch it?" he asked. Dean and Natalie just shook their heads. Sam continued. "This place is just too..." he halted, trying to find the right words.

"Sugary," Dean interjected. "Say what you will, those candies were delicious."

Sam snorted. "You know that too much candy isn't good for you, right?"

Dean shrugged. "Hey. Chocolate comes from beans, which come from a plant. So chocolate is salad."

"Yeah, it doesn't really work that way, Dean. And besides, those were caramels."

"Same food group. Totally counts."

Natalie giggled. Dean just smirked. He loved making his daughter laugh.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Later on that night, the three Winchesters were sitting in the motel room. Sam and Natalie were at the small table, going over school work. Dean was sprawled out on his bed, trying to figure out how he could order 'The Joy of Sex' off of his phone. Sam had the new Greek mythology book he bought open and in front of him, testing Natalie.

"Alright, so who are considered to be the King and Queen of Mount Olympus?" he asked.

"Zeus and Hera," she answered promptly.

"And their Roman names?"

"Juno and...Jupiter?"

"Perfect," Sam said, smiling. "Now tell me about them."

Natalie took a deep breath. "Okay. Zeus is the thunder god..."

"Like Thor?" came from Dean's bed. Natalie grinned.

"Not really. He had a master bolt, not a gigantic hammer. He's extremely jealous and powerful. No one really wanted to challenge him, so by default, he kind of became the ruler of the gods."

"Very good," Sam complimented. "Now Hera."

"She's Zeus's wife. And also, his sister."

"Dude- are you saying that Mount Olympus is in Kentucky?" Dean said. Natalie giggled, and Sam rolled his eyes. They were too used to Dean's running commentary on their lessons to let it throw them.

"She's the Queen of Olympus, or sometimes she's called the Queen of Heaven. She is the goddess of marriage, and she's obsessed with the perfect beautiful family, even going so far as to throw her own son out of Olympus because she thought he was too ugly."

"Damn, Sammy," Dean yelled over. "You should be grateful that Mom and Dad weren't Greek gods."

"Shuddup, you jerk!" Sam yelled back.

"Bitch!"

"That's enough quizzing for tonight," Sam declared loudly, shutting the book and effectively putting an end to the conversation. "Hey- while we're gone, I want you to read up on the minor gods and goddesses. Be ready to answer questions on them tomorrow."

"Got it," Natalie said, grabbing the book and heading for her couch. She had wanted to come with them to explore Jonathan's house tonight, but they never took her on night jobs. And no amount of pleading or cajoling or even blackmail on her part had gotten them to change their minds. She watched as her father and uncle loaded their pockets with guns, salt, and all other various hunting tools. She was careful to observe how exactly Dean did everything- she wanted to be just like him when she got old enough to go on these nighttime excursions.

"Alright, kiddo," Dean was saying as he checked the rounds in his gun. "You know the drill."

Natalie nodded. "Salt and lock the doors after you leave, don't open them for anyone except you, and only if you've got the password."

"Which is?"

"Zeppelin Rules."

"Keep going."

"In case of emergency, call you first, then call 911, but only if necessary. And most importantly- shoot first, ask questions later." She had this down pat by now.

"Good girl," Dean said, clicking the chamber back in his gun, then tucking it into the small of his back. "Bed by eleven."

Natalie put on her best puppy dog eyes. "Twelve?" she asked innocently. Dean smirked at her.

"Eleven thirty."

"Done," she said, holding out her hand. He snorted a laugh and shook it. "Hey," she said, and stopped.

Dean smiled. "I know. You too."

She gave her best Han Solo grin-and-shrug combo. "I know."

Sam put the container of salt on the table, and pulled his jacket on. "Salt's on the table, Bug."

Natalie nodded. "Thanks Uncle Sam. Be careful."

"Yes, ma'am," he said with a grin. She laughed. They went out the door, and Natalie shut it behind them. When she clicked the deadbolt into place, she then heard her father's boots continue walking towards the Impala. She giggled to herself. Dean always stayed listening at the door until he heard all the locks click into place. She shook her head, and reached for the salt, pouring it into a line right behind the door. When she was done, she catapulted back onto her pull out sofa bed, and thumbed through her Greek Mythology book, looking for the minor god section. She spent the next half hour reading about all of these gods who were apparently not very popular, but still, extremely powerful. Natalie shuddered at some of the havoc these "minor" gods could wreak. When she felt she had read enough to answer all of Sam's questions tomorrow, she tossed the book aside, and went straight for the remote, clicking it on to some late night show.

Around 11:30, she started debating with herself. Could she sneak some more TV in? Her dad was still out on the job, he'd never know. Finally, with a sigh, she clicked the TV off. Who was she kidding? He always knew. She got up, flipped the room lights to "off", and jumped back into her bed, snuggling down in the soft blankets.

The motel was surprisingly quiet. Natalie could hear the wind blowing through the trees outside. It sounds like a storm was coming in. She burrowed deeper, and was almost asleep, when she heard a soft click behind her.

Her eyes opened.

*SPN SPN SPN*

About one o clock in the morning, Sam and Dean were almost back to the motel. They had checked out Jonathan's house, and then decided to swing past Aiden's. Trevor and Amy had mentioned staying with Matilda for a couple days while the police were searching for their little boy, so the brothers decided to take advantage of the empty house, looking for clues. They had traced both houses for EMF, for any sign of supernatural activity, but there was just nothing.

"Okay, so we know that it's targeting males," Sam said, rehashing the details of the case again. "All three missing people are dudes."

"And there's no sign of foul play at all," Dean said."No readings, no sulfur, no ectoplasm, nothing."

"Maybe a woman in white?" Sam suggested. Dean shook his head.

"Fits the male pattern, but doesn't fit the flashing light," he mused.

"And we're sure it's not angels?" Sam asked for the fifteenth time. "I mean, Angels are kind of...dicks."

Dean nodded knowingly, but then shot that theory down again. "Fits the light, but not the pattern. Sammy, I don't know on this one."

They pulled into the quiet parking lot. All the room lights in all rooms were off. Even the overhang lights in front of each door were off. Dean pulled towards a spot that was relatively close to their room. The closer he got, though, the more he stared at their room door.

"Sam," he said, his voice tight. Sam looked at him. Dean pointed to their room. The door was ajar.

Dean threw the car in park, and raced out of the Impala. Sam tore his seat belt off, and was right behind his brother. Dean pulled his gun, and kicked at the open door. It swung back to reveal their room in shambles. He immediately began scanning the room for any signs of movement, his gun instantly at the ready. He began pushing his way through the tumbled over furniture, desperately searching for his daughter. When he saw no movement, he raced towards the bathroom, throwing the door open. It was empty. He pushed back into the room. His eyes caught Sam's, who had his own gun pulled, performing the same scan he was doing.

"Natalie?" Dean called out, in a voice that was both intimidating and scared. Sam reached over and flipped on the room lights. The whole place was in disarray. The table was overturned, the chairs strewn about. The blankets on their beds were intact, but hers were crumpled up in a pile on the ground. Dean looked down- Tufty, her toy puppy, was laying sideways in the blankets. In horror, he looked at the walls. There was a dark, runny substance on them.

"Natalie!" Dean shouted again, his voice growing more and more panicked. He began tearing through the blankets as if he expected her to somehow be there.

Sam was checking the small alcoves, wondering if she was hunkered down in one of them, hiding. "Natalie?" he hollered.

Dean kept tearing through the room, pushing over and aside anything that may be possibly a hiding spot, finding nothing. "Natalie Grace, get your ass out here right now!" Dean yelled in desperation. Sam looked at him, the terror plainly etched on his face.

"Dean. She's not here."


	8. The Candy Man Part 3

**Hello Beautiful SPN Family! Here's part 3 of the Candy Man!**

 **Special thanks as always to Jenmm31. The Sam to my Dean! Girl- you're going to kick butt tomorrow! I believe in you!**

 **Here's the final chapter of this case. Please leave me a review or a PM to let me know if you liked the whole "case" thing, or if I should just stick to one shots, LOL! But regardless, I hope you enjoy!**

 **A/N- if you haven't, please read the previous 2 chapters. Otherwise, this won't make a lick of sense :)**

 **Disclaimer- see profile.**

"Dean. She's not here."

Dean refused to acknowledge Sam's words. He continued to tear apart the room, looking for his daughter. He pulled the blankets off the untouched beds; he flipped over the one end table left standing in the entire room.

"Dean," Sam began.

"No," Dean said, low in his throat. He stormed into the bathroom, ripped the shower curtain off its rungs, hoping that he had been wrong the first time- that maybe Natalie was hiding in the bathtub and he had just missed her. When he once again discovered it was empty, he chucked the plastic curtain under the empty sink. He thundered back into the room, his eyes scanning the detritus for something- anything else to check, to look under, to destroy. Sam tried again.

"Dean," he said, this time with a bit more force in his voice.

"No. No no no no NO!" Dean screamed. He wildly looked around for the nearest object to throw. Since all the tables and their various contents had been upturned, he looked down to the floor. He leaned down, and shoved the table that he had just up ended half way across the room. Sam sidestepped through the wreckage, and grabbed Dean by the shoulders. He shouted into his brother's face.

"DEAN!"

"Sam, I'm going to kill them. Whatever or whoever took her." Dean said, his low even tone betraying the panic and fury exploding out of him. "I'm going to kill that son of a bitch."

Sam grabbed tighter. "Yes, yes we will. But you need to calm down and breathe first."

"CALM DOWN?!" Dean raged, cutting Sam off. "My daughter is missing, taken by God knows what, and you're telling me to CALM DOWN?!"

Seeing that trying to hold Dean back wasn't working, Sam wrapped his large hand around the back of Dean's head forcefully, essentially holding his head in place, and forcing him to look into Sam's eyes. He pulled him in close, so they were face to face.

"Listen to me man," Sam said, his own voice dropping into a low growl. "You need to get your head in the game." Dean struggled to pull away, but Sam only tightened his grip. "No, listen to me! Look- yes, I know she's your daughter, but she's my niece too. And if you think that I don't want to catch whoever it is that took her just as badly as you do, you've got another thing coming. But if you run after whatever this is half-cocked, running on nothing but anger, that's not helping- you're only putting Natalie in more danger. You know that." At the mention of her name, Dean finally stopped pulling against Sam. He stood silent, every muscle and tendon in his body solid steel. But he was listening. Sam rushed on. "We need to figure out what took her, and where she is. Then we go in, both barrels locked and loaded. But not until then."

Dean's eyes were still hard as ice, but Sam could see that his words were slowly sinking in. Suddenly, Dean took a ragged, gasping breath.

"You're right, you're right," Dean said, struggling to breathe. "Sorry," he growled, more out of the fact that he knew he needed to say that rather than actually feeling sorry. Sam knew that for Dean, this was a huge step in the right direction. He let him go, and Dean shook himself, trying to break out of the emotional rollercoaster and back to a place where he could actually start thinking and help his kid. He pressed his lips together, but didn't speak, trying to focus his thoughts.

"Alright. Let's take a look around, let's see if we can figure this out?" Sam said, a wary eye still on his brother. Dean just nodded, one short jerky nod, and began analytically assessing the room. He immediately went for the sofa bed, where he yanked Natalie's pillow off the mattress.

"She's armed," he said, a tiny modicum of relief in his voice. He had taught her to always keep a weapon close when she was sleeping. He knew she preferred sleeping with one of her silver throwing knives under her pillow, which was not there at the moment. That helped him get into sharper focus, knowing that his little girl at least had a deadly weapon with her. His eyes then hit the golden retriever puppy that she always kept with her- the one he had given her when she was five. It was just lying, forgotten, on the ground. That almost sent him over the edge again. He tore his eyes away from it, and tried to focus on Sam instead.

Sam was looking around at the room. "And she put up a hell of a fight," he observed, looking at the wreck that had formerly been a rather nice motel room.

"So what does that mean?" Dean pressed, his voice still laced with tension.

"It means that she didn't just disappear, like the other cases that we've been working on."

"Yeah, yeah- there was no signs of struggle with them. Okay- does this mean that it's not supernatural? Whatever the thing was that took her?" Sam shook his head.

"I don't know-" As he was shaking his head, his eyes caught the slick, wet stain on the otherwise perfect royal blue wall. It was under the framed picture of the picnicking family, which was the only thing in the room that was still intact, still hanging perfectly straight on the wall. That was bizarre. How had a picture hung on a wire managed to escape the whirlwind? He walked slowly towards it, reaching his hand out to the runny, sticky substance on the wall.

"That better be the bastard's blood on that wall," Dean spat out angrily. Sam touched the stuff- it was cold. And way more runny than blood. He reacted with surprise, then ran his finger through the stuff, and held it up to his nose.

"Dean- it's not blood," he said breathlessly. Dean stormed over to him, and ran his own finger across the wall. He sniffed it the way Sam had just done, then tentatively touched it to his tongue. Sam and Dean looked at each other at the same time.

"It's...chocolate?" Sam said, confused. The facts rolled together in Dean's mind. It suddenly came to him.

"The Candy Man," Dean said, pure rage filtering into his voice.

They were out the door in a heartbeat.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Natalie wasn't sure where she was. She had tried to track the movements of the car, but it was very difficult, owing to the fact that she was blindfolded and shoved in a trunk. She had been working on the rope that was binding her wrists together, but was having no luck. This asshole had done a damn good job tying her up. The car screeched to a halt, and she began wriggling desperately, knowing that he would be opening the trunk in a matter of moments. She wanted nothing more than to pop out of the trunk like a deadly jack-in-the-box, but damn, these ropes were tight. She heard the trunk open, and felt the rough hands pick her up and effortlessly throw her over his shoulder. She gritted her teeth for two seconds- _why_ did she seem to be missing the Winchester Sasquatch gene, making it so easy for her to get tossed around? Being deprived of sight due to the blindfold seemed to be heightening her other senses. The overwhelming smell of caramelized sugar was enough to confirm exactly where she was.

"Really?" she said dryly. "You had to blindfold me so that I wouldn't know that we were going to your damn shop? How stupid do you really think I am, you jerk-off?"

"Now, now," Rett said, in his warm, fatherly, yet extremely creepy tone. "There is no need for that kind of language, young lady."

"Yeah? How about I just kick your ass instead?"

Rett didn't answer- he just clucked his tongue disapprovingly. He had opened the door to his shop, and walked through, carefully locking it behind him. Natalie wriggled again, trying to break his grasp on her.

"Stop that," he scolded, his grip tightening. "I don't want to drop you on accident." That just made her start squirming harder. He sighed, and shifted her higher up onto his shoulder, effectively causing her to lose any ground she had just gained trying to get away.

"Now really, Natalie, if I wanted to hurt you, I would have done it by now." That made her stop for a moment, and think about what he said. It was true, in a weird way. Even though she had nearly taken him down at the motel, one cheap, lucky, well timed kick to the gut had doubled her over, and made her his captive. He had tied her up and tossed her in the trunk, but hadn't killed her, or even knocked her out. So what the hell did he want her for then?

"That's better," Rett said, feeling her stop fighting for a moment. Natalie snorted derisively.

"If you think that for one second, you can let your guard down around me, buddy boy, I'll kick you in the fucking crotch so hard that you'll have to go through puberty all over again!" she snarled.

"What did I just say about language?" Rett scolded, opening another door. Since she was slightly disoriented, Natalie wasn't sure, but she thought it may have been the Employees Only door that Anthony had walked through earlier that day. She felt herself being carried down the stairs, which was rather uncomfortable owing to the fact that her stomach still ached from where Rett had kicked her, and the sore spot was bouncing against his shoulder. He seemed to realize that she was in pain, and slowed down a bit.

"I'm sorry if this hurts you, honey. But you know, you didn't have to throw that temper tantrum like you did. I wouldn't have had to tie you up."

"Temper tantrum?! You abducted me, you asshole!"

"That is the last time I'm going to warn you about your language, young lady!" They reached the bottom of the stairs. Rett set her down, and moved her towards the center of the room. He then quickly unbound her hands, but left her blindfold on.

"Boys!" he yelled out. "Come and meet your new sister!"

 _Sister?_

Rett removed her blindfold, and she blinked in the sudden light. When she could see again, she could make out two people walking towards her, one of them being rather small, the other, much taller. She stared at the toddler. Sure enough, it was Aiden. And she was willing to bet the other boy was Jonathan. They just stared at her, and she stared right back. Rett clapped his hands enthusiastically.

"Well, now, this is beautiful!" he gushed. Natalie turned to him with a look like he had just declared that he was going to be trying out for the lead in "Swan Lake". Her stunned expression didn't seem to affect him at all.

"We're finally together! Our perfect, loving family," he said in a twisted Hallmark Greeting Card quip. "Come on now, let me see that smile of yours, darling." He stepped in closer to Natalie. Jonathan reached out and pulled Aiden behind him when he did that. Natalie pressed her lips together, determined to never show him her teeth again. He just smiled patronizingly.

"Come on now, angel."

"Fuck off."

Rett shook his head. "I warned you about your language. And you really should smile when someone tells you to." He reached up towards his mouth. "You never know when you may lose that pretty smile of yours." He removed the teeth from his mouth like they were dentures. Natalie almost threw up when he turned to her and showed her what was left of his smile. His teeth had been replaced with what appeared to be live, writhing maggots. An ungodly noise reverberated from his mouth, like the maggots were screaming. She turned away, horrified. Rett popped the dentures back into his mouth- the writhing larvae were suddenly silenced. Natalie clenched herself around her middle, utterly aghast at what she'd just seen, and prayed for all of her bodily fluids to stay inside of her where they belonged.

"I'm going to go get your mother. She's not going to be too pleased with your attitude, young lady. I suggest you choose a better one before she gets here." With that, Rett turned on his heel and walked out of the basement room to an adjoining storage room. When Natalie was sure that she wasn't about to blow chunks everywhere, she turned to the boys.

"Are you guys alright?" she asked, swallowing hard to keep the bile in.

The little boy was clinging to the other teen's pant leg, his thumb popped in his mouth. The older teen looked at Natalie.

"Yeah, yeah, we're okay. What's your name?" he asked.

"Natalie. And I know that you're Jonathan..." she said, looking at him. Then her gaze shifted to the young boy. "...and you're Aiden, right?"

Jonathan stared at her in surprise. "How did you know our names?"

"My dad and uncle have been looking for you, ever since you went missing," Natalie explained.

"Are they cops or something like that?" Jonathan asked.

"Yeah. Something like that." Natalie scanned the room. It was empty. The far wall had some plumbing pipes attached to it, but otherwise, the room was completely bare.

"It's okay. It's going to be okay," Jonathan said, trying to reassure her. She just ignored him, and kept searching for anything that she could use a weapon, or any escape route.

"I know you're probably scared," Jonathan continued.

"I'm not scared," she said, lying through her teeth.

"But they really don't want to hurt us."

Natalie turned her full attention to him on that. "They?"

Jonathan nodded. "They're actually pretty nice people, as long as you behave yourself."

"Yeah, well, I don't know who "they" are, but screw that, I think we should try to break out of here."

Jonathan shook his head vigorously. "No, that's not a good idea. They want us to stay here. And besides, there's no way out."

Natalie smirked. "Well, I may know a trick or two, Jonathan."

He smiled, as if trying to mollify her. "You really think that you have something up your sleeve that I don't?" In response, Natalie shook her sleeve, and her silver knife dropped into her hand. Jonathan's eyes went wide at the sight of the weapon.

"Well, I didn't know you meant literally," he stammered. Natalie nodded in response, and began the visual sweep of the room again before speaking.

"Listen to me. I know about this kind of situation that we're in, and you're just going to have to trust me," she said in a rush. "When I figure out how to get us out of here, you take Aiden and go, do you understand?" Aiden started suddenly shaking his head, and withdrew his thumb from his mouth.

"Mommy won't like that," the little boy said, terrified, clinging to Jonathan. Natalie's eyes met the older boy's.

"Mommy?" she asked him warily.

Suddenly, a flash of brilliant light came from the storage room that Rett had just walked into a few moments ago. Natalie cursed under her breath, her eyes dilating madly again, trying to keep her from going blind in the onslaught of light. She held up her hand, and made out a silhouette walking towards her. Her hunter instincts clicking on instantaneously. But whatever this thing was, it didn't seem to be an immediate threat. It was walking calmly, serenely even, towards the three of them.

"You're finally here," the creature breathed. Natalie was surprised- since when did monsters have silky, flowing voices? She squinted, and the light in the room seemed to go back down to a normal level. A tall, statuesque woman stood before her. Her long black hair was knotted up with golden cords and ropes. She appeared to be wearing all white, and was twirling a large diamond on a ring on her left hand. Rett was right behind her, staring at her adoringly.

"Who the hell are you?" Natalie asked. The woman didn't answer the question, but tilted her head, and gave Natalie a warning look.

"I don't like children using that sort of language. It seems your father was right about your mouth. You really should be more careful about the words you use, Natalie," the woman said, disapproval in her voice.

Natalie just stared at her. "What do you mean, my father? He doesn't give a damn about how much I swear," she said. Dean had (for the most part) always found it hilarious when she swore.

The woman shook her head, as if listening to the ravings of a toddler. "Not your other father, dear. Your new father," she said, and gestured to Rett behind her. Rett just gave Natalie a nod of his head, as if to say, _I warned you about your language._ Natalie was stunned by the woman's words. Then the Winchester Anger started surging through her veins.

"Well, hate to tell you, but I'm not in the market for a new father. I kinda like the one I've got."

"He no longer matters, darling. It would be best if you just forgot all about him, and learn to love your new, perfect family."

"Go to hell, bitch."

The woman's face pinched in anger. She turned quietly to Rett. "It seems like I'm going to have to deal with this disobedience now. Dearest- please take the boys into the other room." She turned back to Natalie, rage burning in her eyes. "I need to teach our daughter a lesson."

*SPN SPN SPN*

The engine of the Impala roared as Dean floored it. They weren't that far from the store, but Dean wanted his entire arsenal with him. Mess with a Winchester? Yeah, there was going to be hell to pay. But mess with a Winchester's Daughter? Dean gritted his teeth and smiled nastily at the thought. The Candy Man had better be prepared for an unholy World War 3 that started with an atomic bomb shoved right down his throat. His eyes burned with fury, singularly focused on the road in front of him, demolishing the miles between him and his kid. The Impala sped through the night like the wind. Dean couldn't help but feel that Baby knew that Natalie was in danger, and wanted to get her back just as badly as he did. He gave a slight affectionate squeeze to the steering wheel, silently encouraging her to keep up the pace. Sam was in the passenger's seat, loading every weapon they had within reach.

"Why did he take her?" Sam said aloud.

"Doesn't matter. He's going to die," Dean growled in response.

"Dean, it just doesn't make sense. Why would he take Natalie? He said that he and his wife had kids, that they were..." Sam stopped suddenly, the words from their conversation with Rett clicking in his brain. "...trying for a third." Sam took a slow, ragged breath. He turned to Dean.

"Rett took the other two missing kids, Aiden and..." Sam said, blanking on the name.

"Jonathan," Dean said shortly.

"Right! Jonathan! He and his wife must be kidnapping kids!"

"That is one sick son of a bitch, Sam. Who kidnaps kids?" Dean growled. He shook his head, narrowing his eyes, willing Baby to go even faster.

"Yeah, he's messed up alright." Sam agreed, his own voice laced with anger. Another fact occurred to him, one that didn't make sense.

"What about the light that everyone saw then? When the boys disappeared? How come there were no signs of struggle with the other victims? And what about the older guy that went missing a couple months ago?" Sam asked, all the thoughts tumbling out of his head. Dean thought a moment, then snapped his fingers.

"I'm willing to bet you dollars to donuts that the older dude is Rett. Didn't you say he looked familiar?" Dean said, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to look at his brother. Sam gasped.

"You're right! He kind of looks like the missing guy, the picture on the flyer. God, how did I not see that?" Sam said, furious at himself.

"It's because it doesn't exactly look like him," Dean said, thinking hard about the picture. "I mean, it looks like he's been altered or something, kind of- I don't know- disguised in a way."

"What? You mean like a shape shifter?"

"No, those are exact duplicates. It's like, I don't know how to say it- like he was changed, you know? Like his DNA or something was shifted so he just looked different enough."

Sam thought hard about that. What had the power to alter human appearance? A sudden thought came to him- Natalie and him sitting at the table, studying the Greek gods...Rett's altered look...the picture perfect family on the motel room wall, untouched, completely intact...

"Dean. It's Hera," Sam gasped.

Dean turned in surprise. "Who?"

"Hera. Greek goddess of marriage. The one that Natalie and I have been studying. She's obsessed with the perfect family. She's trying to create the perfect family by kidnapping people and making them into her new gang. I'm guessing Rett is just a pawn, the Father character in her perfect family picture."

" Yeah- he said he and his wife moved her a couple of months ago. Didn't the first guy go missing around then?" Sam nodded his head vigorously. "So is Rett not the one doing the kidnapping then?"

"Think about it. We set up all sorts of anti-supernatural stuff in every room we check into. I'm guessing she couldn't come into the room..."

"But Rett could. She just waltzed into the other houses, took the kids..."

"That explains the flashes of light."

"...but Rett had to get Natalie." Dean gripped the steering wheel tightly. "Man, did that son of a bitch back the wrong horse."

"I'm willing to bet that Hera kidnapped Rett too, and fed him Nectar of the Gods."

"What the hell is that?!"

"It's this stuff that they drink on Mount Olympus- it's not meant for mortals, but they can use it in small doses to control people," Sam said, recalling the lesson with his niece. "That's why Rett looks different- Hera used the nectar to alter Rett's DNA so he wouldn't look the same and people wouldn't think he was the missing guy. She's probably also controlling him with it. Nectar is toxic though, to mortals." Sam shuddered. "If she's been feeding it to him by mouth, I'd hate to see what other effects it has on him."

"Yeah, well, I'm going to cram all of their mouths so full of nectar they won't ever make it back to Mount Olympus," Dean threatened, his foot still firmly planted on the floor. Another horrifying thought came to Sam.

"I don't think Rett's the only one."

"So what? You think this goddess chick is feeding other people nectar too?"

Sam turned to Dean. "It's got to be in the chocolates."

"Are you serious?!"

"Think about it. That's why everyone in this town is so gung-ho to keep their lawns perfect, their store fronts all nice and happy looking, to look like the perfect community. They've all been to the new candy store and eaten the chocolates! This whole freaking town is under the spell!" Sam took a deep breath. "And we've got another problem," he added. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Another one? Great. I was thinking we were kind of low on problems right now, that's just great."

"Hera's immortal."

"So?"

"So that means we can't kill her."

"When has that stopped us before?"

Sam shook his head. "No Dean, you don't understand. She has the power of the gods behind her. She's going to be immune to everything we've got."

Dean's knuckles cracked as he gripped the steering wheel tighter. "So what you're saying is some Immortal Bitch has my daughter, and there's nothing I can do about it?" Sam didn't say anything.

"Well, fuck that. I don't care if I have to bring Heaven or Mount Olympus or whatever down, I'm getting Natalie back."

"Maybe we can combat Hera's power with...another god's power or something," Sam mused, trying to think of a solution.

"Great. Got Hercules on speed dial?"

Sam didn't answer- his brain was whirling into overdrive. He suddenly found the answer he was looking for.

"Yes. We can do that," he said to himself, trying to quickly formulate a plan.

"Okay, how?" Dean pressed, his tone forceful. Sam turned to look at him.

"I just really hope Natalie did the reading I told her to."

*SPN SPN SPN*

Two minutes later, they were silently entering the Candy Man's store. A quick cursory look around told them that they were not in the store front, so Sam quickly picked the lock to the Employees Only door. They were silently making their way down the dark stairs, Dean in the lead. They reached the floor of the basement. The thick darkness was too much for them, so Sam clicked on his pocket flash light, shining it around the room. The beam of light fell on a small dark haired figure sitting limply on the ground, leaning up against the opposite wall.

Dean cursed under his breath. Natalie was unconscious, tied with her hands over her head. Her little fingers were curled over as if she had been there, knocked out for a while. He ran over to her, quickly pulling his pocket knife out, and began cutting the ropes that bound her hands. He was worried when he saw how stiff her fingers were curled, but he could also feel the slight warmth in them, letting him know that she was still alive. He glanced quickly at her face, not wanting to take his eyes off the rope he was cutting, but needing to know that she was alright. A large bruise was blossoming on her left cheek, like she had been back handed. Dean's blood boiled at the thought of anyone hurting her like that. He was sawing away at the thick ropes with a vengeance, almost but not quite making it through the first one, when he felt the barrel of the gun on the back of his skull. He froze immediately, his hand still right beside Natalie's.

"Now, I wouldn't do that if I were you," came Rett's sickly sweet voice. Dean slowly stood up. With barely any discernible movement, he slipped the pocket knife in between Natalie's curled fingers. It stayed there. Dean prayed that she would wake up soon and be able to use it to cut herself the rest of the way free. He turned around slowly, raising his hands. Sure enough, Rett had a gun trained right at his face. Sam was on the other side of the room, trying to speak, but something had removed his voice. He watched as his brother tried to move, but his feet were stuck to the floor. A woman, tall, wearing all white, was standing next to Sam, twirling a lock of his long hair around her fingers. So that was why Sam hadn't sounded the alarm- the woman was holding him in place, silent. She turned her eyes to Dean.

"That's better," she purred. She walked over to Dean. "Can't have you undermining my authority." She gestured carelessly towards Natalie. "My daughter needed to be punished. I don't appreciate you trying to set her free when she hasn't learned her lesson yet."

Dean stared at the goddess incredulously. "YOUR daughter? Oh, lady, have you got your lines crossed. That one," he said, pointing to Natalie, "belongs to me."

The goddess gave a superior smirk. "She WAS yours. She's mine now."

"Like hell she is."

"I can see where she gets her charming linguistic skills from."

"Yeah? Then try this one on for size. Get bent."

Hera turned to Rett, with a _can you believe this_ look on her face. "These people are always so ungrateful. Here I am, just trying to create a perfect family to combat this disgusting, imperfect world, and I get nothing but rudeness and filthy words." She shook her head sadly. "Such a shame."

Rett nodded like a slave to his master. "I know dearest. We'll finish him off, and then he can't say anything mean to you anymore," he said, practically drooling on the goddess. Hera smirked, but looked back and forth between the brothers.

"No, I don't think so," she mused. Her eyes trailed up and down Dean's body, then she slowly made her way back to Sam, who was still struggling to break free of her hold. She ran her fingers through his hair again. He tried to jerk away from her, but there was only so far he could move.

"They're both rather handsome. I could be in the mood for some...family pets," she said, her voice silky and dangerous. Rett's face twisted in amusement at her words. He turned to face Dean, who still had his back to Natalie. Dean spoke up, trying to divert Hera's attention off of Sam.

"Okay, look, you Olympian bitch. Let the kids go, and you can do whatever you want to me. Just let them go, they don't deserve this," he said. Rett laughed in response.

"What family is going to miss them? Aiden's parents are always fighting; Jonathan's parents are always away. And as for Natalie- well, she has a better chance with me as her father than she ever did with you."

Dean was about to lean forward and rip Rett's throat out, but Rett suddenly gasped, and looked up. Dean's pocket knife was sticking neatly out of his forehead, the handle still quivering. His soon to be dead eyes rolled down, and looked in surprise behind Dean. Dean whirled around.

"Bite me, bi-atch."

Natalie's one wrist was still lashed to the pipes on the wall, but she had only needed the one free hand to throw the blade. Blood poured out of the wound in Rett's forehead, and ran down into his open mouth. As he fell, Dean paid him no attention, racing back to the wall to his daughter. Natalie shook her free arm, her silver knife dropping into her hand again. Dean snatched it and began cutting the other rope as quickly as he could. Just as he was slicing through the last fiber, Rett hit the ground with a resounding thud. Hera watched, seemingly indifferent. Dean pushed Natalie behind him as Hera took two steps towards the former father of her kidnapped children. She tilted her head, as if studying him.

"Pity," she said, her voice lacking emotion. "I liked him. He worshipped me." She gave one final look at Rett, then swung her eyes up to Dean. "Do you have any idea how long it takes me to train a new male?" She rolled her eyes, apparently annoyed at having to go through the rigorous trial of finding a new slave yet again. Her eyes turned cold, and she smiled.

"At least I still have my children," she hissed. She reached out a hand towards Natalie, who suddenly rose a few feet off the ground, gasping for air.

"NO!" Dean screamed, and rushed the goddess, tackling her around the middle. He had caught her by surprise with his sudden charging, and as she hit the floor, so did Natalie. Natalie took a gasping breath, the air rushing back into her lungs, and saw Sam on the other side of the room, suddenly able to move. He raced around to the storage room, where Jonathan and Aiden had suddenly appeared. He blocked the door way, and Natalie saw Jonathan draw back his fist.

"No! They're here to help us!" she yelled, hoping that Jonathan was listening. Her voice didn't get to him in time- he landed a punch in the small of Sam's back. Sam just grunted, barely touched by the weak left hook, and turned to give Jonathan the evil eye. Jonathan's now panicked eyes swung to Natalie, her words finally registering in his mind.

"Oh! Um, okay. Sorry, dude!" he said quickly, looking back at Sam. Sam just rolled his eyes.

Dean was still wrestling with the goddess. He was on top of her, pinning her wrists to the ground. She was writhing beneath him, trying to break free.

"You know," Dean said, unable to keep his snarkiness to himself, "If you weren't trying to steal my daughter, this would be kinda hot."

At that, Hera suddenly dislodged him from on top of her, and flipped him so fast, slamming him into the concrete floor, that he was completely winded.

"I take it back," he gasped, barely able to breathe. Her eyes had fire in them, and she raked her nails down his face, leaving a trail of three gashes.

"Ah, c'mon," he panted, trying in vain to grasp her wrists and keep her from shredding his cheek again. "Not the face- that's my money maker." This only enraged the goddess further. She grabbed him by the lapels of his jacket and slammed him into the concrete once more. Sam saw that Dean was in danger of losing his battle, very quickly. He fished in his pocket for his vial of holy water and a Zippo.

"Natalie!" he hollered. Natalie's eyes tore away from the fight between her father and the goddess, and met Sam's. He tossed her the vial and the lighter, which she caught with lighting precision. "Summon the goddess Hestia!" he yelled. Natalie's eyes grew wide, and once his words registered with her, he saw her instantaneously switch to action mode. She opened the vial, and poured it over her head. She wildly looked around, searching for something to start a fire with. Finding nothing in the bare room, she pulled off her shoe, and immediately set fire to it using the Zippo. She placed it on the ground, and in a loud voice, called out, "O Hestia, goddess and protector of families, I plead with you, come before me." _Thank God she did her homework,_ Sam thought in a rush.

Natalie watched around the room, but didn't see anything change. Dean had managed to kick Hera off of him, but she instantly pounced again, like a deadly kitten. Natalie frantically caught Sam's eye.

"It didn't work!" she yelled, desperation in her voice.

Sam held out his hand to her. "Try again!" She steeled herself, trying to remember Hestia's full title, and called out once more.

"O Hestia, goddess of the hearth and protector of families, I beg of you, come to us!"

A sudden rush of light in the room blinded them all for a moment. When Natalie could see again, she was surprised. A small girl stood in the middle of the room, maybe around her age, wearing a simple white dress. There was nothing to suggest a god-like power, except the halo of golden light surrounding her. Other than that, perfectly normal. Hera stopped wrestling with Dean at Hestia's sudden appearance. She stood up, leaving Dean curled over in the dust.

"What are you doing here?" she snarled at the young girl. Hestia stared up at the Queen of Heaven benignly.

"This child summoned me," she said, and pointed at Natalie. Hera's eyes bore holes into Natalie.

"It seems I now have to teach you a lesson about playing with fire," she snapped threateningly. She made a move towards Natalie, but was stopped by an invisible wall. Hestia had held up her hand, and apparently Hera couldn't move. Hera's face was astounded, and she turned to Hestia with a look that promised death.

"How dare you stop the Queen of Heaven!" she screamed at the young girl. Hestia didn't even blink.

"You have overstepped Zeus's law, your Majesty," Hestia said, in a quiet, calm voice. "We are not to interfere with mortal lives. And I am the guardian of mortal families. You must not harm the Winchesters any longer."

Hera's eyes narrowed. "And a pathetic minor goddess like you is going to stop me?" she said, her silky voice growing dangerous again. Hestia smiled.

"Yes," she said simply. A sudden pulse of golden light radiated off of Hestia. Hera was thrown back, and for the first time, Natalie could see fear in the goddess's eyes. Hestia opened her mouth.

"You will not harm the Winchesters any longer. As the Goddess of the Hearth and the Protector of Families, I place them under my protection from your interference," she said, her voice no longer quiet and gentle, but powerful and commanding, reverberating though the room. Hera screamed, her frustration exploding out of her, and with another flash of light, she disappeared.

Dean quickly picked himself up off the floor, and with a quick look at his daughter and his brother, began dusting himself off, rolling around his aching muscles from where Hera had clobbered him. Natalie took a step towards the goddess.

"Thank you, goddess," she said quietly, with reverence in her voice. Hestia had returned to her regular glowing level, and turned to smile at Natalie.

"You're welcome, child," Hestia said, tilting her head and smiling. "Are the others safe?" she asked, looking at Sam. Sam turned to the side, and Jonathan came out of the store room, with Aiden in his arms.

"Um, yes, yes your...goddessness, we're alright," Jonathan stammered, in awe of everything he had just witnessed. Hestia seemed to smother a smile at the word "goddessness", but she schooled her features to stay kind.

"Good. I'm glad. I will return you to your families, but you must be cautious in telling this tale to other mortals. Do you understand?" Hestia said, looking at both boys. Jonathan nodded intensely, but then looked at Aiden. Natalie knew they were wondering the same thing. How do you tell a four year old to stay quiet? Hestia seemed to realize the issue at the same time they did. She glided over to the boys. Aiden was staring at her in wonder, his thumb still in his mouth. Hestia smiled gently, and reached out to place a hand on his forehead. The young boy instantly fell into a deep sleep, a smile on his face, slumped against Jonathan's shoulder. Hestia's eyes met Jonathan's again.

"The young one will not remember anything of what he's seen here. And now you must make a vow to never tell the truth of what you witnessed today, young man. Make it to me, now," she said, the hint of power and command back in her tone. Jonathan nodded quickly.

"I vow to never speak of this, your Majesty," he said, almost tripping over his words. Behind him, Natalie saw Dean roll his eyes at the teenager's awkwardness. She felt the laugh welling up inside her, but after remembering Rett's horrific smile, she wasn't sure if she could ever smile again, so she stifled her grin.

Hestia smiled at Jonathan, and reached out to touch his forehead this time. In an instant, both he and Aiden vanished.

"Whoa," said Dean. Hestia turned towards him at his outburst. "Where did they go?" he asked.

"I sent them back to their homes. Aiden will be found, sleeping in his bed. His parents are at their home, right now."

"And Jonathan?" Sam asked.

Hestia nodded. "His parents return from their cruise today, and they will be none the wiser."

Dean's eyes then started scanning his own daughter for any signs of hurt or damage. She was staring at the still form of Rett on the ground. Dean's heart twisted as he realized what this was- her first kill. She had seen he and Sam take down any number of supernatural creatures- she had even exorcised a demon once- but this was the first kill by her own hand. He walked over to her, his hands shoved in his pockets.

"Hey," he said quietly to her. "You okay?" She continued to stare at the dead man, and didn't respond. Dean sighed, and stepped in closer to her. "You kept your head, you remembered your training. A lot of adults wouldn't have been able to stay calm and focused the way you just did, kiddo." Again, no response.

"You did what you had to do," he said stoically. "There was no saving him, not when Hera had altered him like that- you know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know that," she responded quietly, still staring at the body.

"You saved me. He would have blown me away in a second if you hadn't stopped him." Dean nudged her, causing her to look up into his face. "You saved my life tonight."

When the truth of that statement hit, Natalie's eyes widened. She had always wanted to be just like her father- saving people, and hunting things- and for the first time, when Dean said that, she realized that she just might get her wish. She still didn't want to smile- the best she could do was a sideways grin, but she wrapped her arms around Dean's waist, and buried her face in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her in response, and just stood there, holding her.

When they finally broke apart, they both looked up, in tandem, to see the goddess staring curiously at the two of them. Without a word, she turned to look at Sam. She stretched out her left hand to him. He gingerly took it, and she tugged, pulling him towards his brother and niece. She reached her right hand out to Dean. When her hand connected with his, she started in surprise, and looked quickly back and forth between the brothers. Sam and Dean exchanged a look- they had no idea what she was doing. She gently let go of their hands, and then her eyes trained on Natalie. She took a tentative step forward, and reached out her hands towards Natalie's face. Natalie didn't move- she knew she was in no danger from Hestia, and was curious as to what the goddess wanted. Hestia's hands gently cupped Natalie's face. Natalie felt a warm, rushing sensation, similar to the feeling she got when she and Matilda had touched hands. But this time, she didn't question it. She simply let it be. For one brief second, Hestia's face registered joy, and then she stepped away from Natalie again, stepping back so she could see all three of them.

"You all have a much bigger part to play in your quest than you realize," the goddess said simply. The three of them looked at each other for a split second, before training their eyes back on her.

"What does that mean?" Dean asked. Hestia tilted her head slightly, looking at him.

"It is not for me to tell you. You will discover it on your own." She reached out her hands to the brothers once again, and they both took them.

"But I can tell you this. You must all take care of one another. It is important that you continue on this journey together, no matter what it takes," Hestia said, the power creeping back into her voice. "Make a vow to me. Swear that you will protect each other." Without a moment's hesitation, they all spoke up.

"I will," said Dean.

"I will," said Sam.

"I will," said Natalie.

Hestia smiled once again at the family, and with a flash of light, she was gone.

*SPN SPN SPN*

"You know, I kind of feel bad," Natalie said, as they loaded their duffle bags into the trunk the next morning. "I mean, that motel room was so nice, and boy, did we destroy it good."

Dean shrugged and grinned. "Not the first time, won't be the last." He hollered into the room as Natalie scooted into the backseat of the Impala. "Come on Sammy, what are you waiting for- the rapture?"

Sam walked out of the room with his infamous bitch face on, and slapped Dean's .45 into his hand. Dean just stared at it, then shrugged again, and gave Sam his cheeky grin. "Thanks bro." Sam just laughed it off, and got into the passenger's side.

While Dean was shutting the trunk, Sam turned to Natalie inside the car.

"I can't believe it took me that long to figure out what was going on," he said to his niece. "I mean- come on- Heaven's Rock is another name for Mount Olympus, for god's sake."

Natalie smirked. "We hadn't gotten to that part of the lesson yet, so I didn't get it either. Totally understandable." Sam smiled at his niece's justification, essentially letting him off the hook.

"Hey," she piped up suddenly. "Why did you want me to summon Hestia? Why didn't you or Dad do it?"

Sam shrugged. "Well, the ritual needed someone pure of heart, and quite frankly, between the three of us, you were the best bet." At that moment, Dean opened the driver's side door and climbed in. Natalie continued her conversation with Sam.

"Well, can we kind of lay off the Greeks for a while in lessons? I think I'm going to throw up if I have to read anything about a god or goddess right now."

Sam laughed. "Sure thing, Bug. How about some Shakespeare?"

"Oh god, now I'M going to throw up," Dean grumbled, turning the ignition. Natalie giggled to herself. She still hadn't really smiled since last night, and she wasn't sure when she was going to really smile ever again, but it did feel nice to laugh, even just a bit. She dug her hands into the pocket of her coat, leaned back, and stared out the window as Dean pulled out of the parking lot, heading towards their next adventure. When her hand hit the contents of her jacket pocket, her eyes went wide. Well, maybe there was a chance she'd smile again. She fished the cellophane bag out and leaned forward, dropping her arms over the front seat.

"Hey," she said, offering up the small bag, plastering the look of innocence on her face. "Do you guys want a Sweet Cherry Drop?"

 **THE END (of this case, anyways)! What did you guys think? Thank you so much for reading, hugs and high fives all around! Love, Emma**


	9. Grown Up Aspirations

**Hello Beautiful People of SPN Land! I want to say thank you to each and every single one of you who have favorited, followed, and/or reviewed- it really means the world to me. I cannot thank you enough. If I could, I would send each of you a Chevy Impala ('67 of course).**

 **Muchas Gracias to my dear friend and fellow author Jenmm31. She's been an amazing support system both as a writer and personally. Please go show her some love by checking out any and all of her stories. They're truly fantastic.**

 **So here's a classic one shot for you. I will have more cases coming up (thank you again for letting me know you liked them!) but they're a bit difficult to write. So in the meantime, I'll try to keep you lovely people happy with these little glimpses. If there is anything you'd like to see, please let me know! I really love hearing from you all. Read, review, and enjoy!**

 **A/N- In this story, Natalie is 6 and at the end of kindergarten. They are currently at Bobby's house. Please see Profile for Disclaimer.**

"We're back!" Dean announced loudly. Natalie came tearing past him into the house, looking for Sam. She found him, seated at Bobby's kitchen table working on his laptop.

"Hi Uncle Sam! Didja miss me?" she said, crawling up into his lap and effectively blocking his view of the laptop. He chuckled as she gave him her heart melting smile.

"Well, of course I did, Bug!" he said, and kissed the top of her head. "Did you find something nice to wear for your graduation?" Natalie nodded vigorously.

"We found the coolest purple top- I look AWESOME in it," she declared.

"Well, I can't wait to see it," Sam said with a smile.

"I wanted to get the tee shirt with Boba Fett on it, but Dad wouldn't let me."

Sam looked up to see Dean coming through the kitchen door, the clothing bag in his hands. "Really?" he said. "I thought you would be certain to return with Star Wars something for her to wear."

Dean looked offended. "Hey! I'm trying to be responsible here! It's not my fault they don't make kids' dress up clothing without Bounty Hunters on the front." He held the bag out towards his daughter. "Hey squirt, run upstairs and put your new outfit in your room."

"Okay!" she said, scrambling off Sam's lap and accidentally kneeing him in the process. He was used to Natalie crawling all over him all the time, but that still didn't make it hurt any less. Dean laughed evilly as he saw Sam wince with pain. Natalie snatched the bag from Dean's hand and started running towards the stairs.

"Make sure you hang it up!" Sam called after her, still shifting a bit in discomfort.

Dean dismissed Sam's worrying with a wave of his hand. "Ah, she knows." They listened as her tiny feet resounded against the wooden stairs like a tap dancing elephant. Dean shook his head. How on earth could someone so small make so much noise? Just then, they heard Bobby's wheelchair creaking against the wooden floor. It stopped at the base of the stairs.

"Hey! Where's the fire?" he yelled up to Natalie. "Slow down! How many times have I told you not to run in the house?"

"Sorry, Pops!" came the hollered reply. The pounding of her footsteps got significantly slower. Bobby just shook his head and wheeled himself into the kitchen.

"So, you got her something suitable for this graduation nonsense?" he asked gruffly.

"Yup," Dean said proudly. He hated shopping, hated it like the plague, but when Natalie had come home from school with a note announcing the graduation ceremony of the kindergarten class, Bobby had insisted that they get her something pretty and cute to wear for it. Luckily for Dean, Natalie hated shopping just as much as he did.

"She found this little purple sparkly thing with black leggings in about two seconds, and bam, we were out of there," he commented happily.

Sam looked at the clock on the wall in surprise. "Hang on- if you guys found an outfit so quickly, why has it been an hour and a half since you left?"

Dean rolled his eyes in frustration. "Because some douche cop pulled us over on the way home."

Bobby just gave Dean the eye. "How fast were you going?" he asked, as if he wasn't surprised at all.

Dean replied hotly, "Not that fast." Bobby just continued to stare at him. He finally relented. "I mean...fast enough," he mumbled sheepishly.

Sam snickered. "Shuddup," Dean said. "I mean, when the guy walked up to my window, he just wouldn't stop talking. It was like being pulled over by Chatty Kathy. I'm guessing the dude doesn't have anyone to talk to except a box full of donuts. He got all snotty after yakking my damn ear off for ten minutes."

"Why did he get all snotty?" Sam wondered.

"Because I asked him if he was done wasting my time yet. That's when he got all Walker Texas Ranger on me." Bobby rolled his eyes at Dean's lack of social decorum.

"You mean he turned into Chuck Norris?" Sam said with a smirk.

"Yeah, of the douche variety."

"What did he say?"

"He was going on and on about 'respecting the law' and 'speed limits were there for a reason', you know, getting all high and mighty. And I'm thinking to myself, I bet he's never even drawn that pistol hanging from his damn gun belt, and he's lecturing me about safety and crap like that." Dean shook his head. "Man, that guy was a _douche bag_." Just then, he saw a small pair of green eyes peeking around the edge of the door to the kitchen. He cleared his throat and nodded subtly towards them, to alert Bobby and Sam to Natalie's presence. He sent up a quick prayer that she hadn't just heard him say "douche bag". She had an uncanny knack for picking up words that she really shouldn't know at the age of six, and using them at the worst possible time.

"Hey kiddo," he said as she walked into the room. "Did you put your outfit up?"

"Yes sir!" she chirped excitedly, climbing into his lap this time.

"Good girl."

"Did you get something nice for your graduation there, munchkin?" Bobby asked. She nodded.

"Uh-huh! It's really cool- it's got these sparkle thingies on it, and it's purple, and I look awesome."

Bobby chuckled as Dean beamed in agreement. She certainly had gotten Dean's self-confidence. Natalie piped up again.

"And it's NOT a dress," she emphasized dramatically. "Which is good, because dresses are stupid."

All three men at the table laughed at that one. "And what makes you say that, Bug?" Sam chortled.

She shrugged, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "They're just dumb. You can't climb on the cars in the back yard in a dress."

"Hold on there, missy," Bobby said, suddenly breaking out of his mirth. His eyes narrowed at her. "When were you climbing on the cars out back?" he asked sternly. Dean felt Natalie freeze in his lap. She turned around and blasted her smile at her father.

"So! What's for dinner?" she asked with an angelic smile. Dean had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at her blatant attempt to change the subject. Sam pushed himself away from the table, walking over to the kitchen counter, where the salads that he had made were waiting.

"Fried chicken salad," Sam announced, grabbing the plates and transferring them to the table. Dean scooted Natalie off his lap, and she clambered into her own chair next to where Bobby was parked. As Sam set the dishes down, he caught Dean's disapproving eye.

"What? Salad is good for you," Sam said defensively. Unless he was mistaken, Dean hadn't voluntarily eaten a vegetable in months. And no matter how much he tried to lobby for it, ketchup did not count as a vegetable in Sam's book.

"C'mon. I put extra onions and bacon on yours," he wheeled his brother. Dean's expression didn't change.

"Just think of it as a fried chicken sandwich."

"Sammy, clearly you don't know the definition of the word 'sandwich'," Dean said, poking around in the salad for the meat. He popped a forkful of the chicken into his mouth. "My stomach isn't going to recognize what this rabbit food crap is."

"Well, then, just pour a bowl of grease over it. You'll be fine."

Dean rolled his eyes at Sam's suggestion, but continued eating. Sam turned to Natalie, who was stabbing away at her salad in six year old fashion.

"So, what's going to happen at this kindergarten graduation ceremony of yours?" he asked his niece.

"We're going to graduate from kindergarten."

Sam snorted. "Yeah, we got that part. What else?"

"We're going to get di...di..." she stammered, forgetting the word.

"Diplomas?" Bobby said. Her eyes lit up, and she nodded at Bobby.

"Yeah! Diplomas! Thanks Pops!" she said, beaming at him. He just nodded back at her, pleased at being able to help.

"Is your teacher going to be there?" Dean asked nonchalantly.

"Yup. She's the one who's running the whole thing," Natalie said proudly. Dean just smirked, and bobbed his eyebrows at Sam. Sam rolled his eyes. Of course Dean would ask if Miss Benson was going to be there. He still couldn't believe that Dean had managed to pick up Natalie's teacher at the school's bake sale. Natalie didn't notice any of the exchange between brothers, and continued describing the ceremony.

"And then at the end, we're going to get up in front of a microphone, and Miss Benson is going to ask what we want to be when we grow up, and we get to tell everybody."

"And what are you going to say?" Dean asked around a mouthful of salad.

"I'm going to say I want to be a hunter!" she announced. The three men around the table froze in various states of eating. Sam and Dean locked eyes and had one of their instant silent conversations. How on earth were they going to explain the need to keep hunting a secret to a six year old? Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Hey now, kid- that's...that's not a good idea," he said hesitantly.

"Why not?" she asked innocently, her eyes going wide. Dean's eyes shifted to Sam. _Help me,_ they begged silently. Sam cleared his throat.

"Well...not everyone is going to understand what a hunter is," Sam said gently. Natalie's gaze swung around to him, and he suddenly felt like he was in the hot seat.

"Oh," she said, her little brow furrowing as she tried to puzzle that one out. She looked up at them again. "So should I explain what a hunter does?"

"No!" shouted all three of them. The sudden loudness in the room scared her, and she froze. Her eyes moved over to her daddy, trying to understand what she had done wrong. Dean took a deep breath, and went for it.

"Look, kiddo. Hunters are...well...okay, you remember when you wanted to get a puppy, and I told you that normal people have puppies?" She nodded slowly, her eyes still locked on him. "Well, normal people don't get to hunt. They don't understand it. And sometimes, when you try to explain it to them, they get scared. You don't want to scare people, do you?"

Natalie thought for a moment, and then shook her head. Encouraged by this, Dean continued. "It's fine that you want to be a hunter when you grow up-" At this, both Sam and Bobby cleared their throats, but Dean ignored them. "-but for right now, how about you pick something else to say?"

"Like what?"

"Like anything. You can be whatever you want to. Anything in the whole wide world." Natalie's eyes widened as she realized all the possibilities.

"Wow. I could be _anything?"_ she asked with wonder.

"Anything," Dean repeated.

She thought for another minute. "Could I say that I want to be one of those people that drive the blue cars?" she asked.

"Blue cars?" asked Dean, confused.

"Uh-huh. With the flashing lights on the top? You know, Daddy- the ones that make you stop when you're driving too fast?"

Bobby stared at Dean incredulously. "How many times have you gotten pulled over, boy?"

Dean cleared his throat, and pointed to Natalie's plate. "Sure you can. Now finish your dinner," he commanded, putting an end to the conversation.

*SPN SPN SPN*

The next evening, the boys and Bobby were crammed into a packed, tiny auditorium, with what they estimated to be about every relative that every kid on that stage had, their own Natalie being no exception. Dean sighed, looking around at the room. There were tons of cameras, phones, and iPads, all recording every second of this ceremony. Sam was sipping on his cup of coffee, grateful that someone had the aforethought to provide the caffeine for the rest of the non-recording participants. Dean looked over at the family across the aisle. The kids were having a sword fight with pens they had snatched from their mother's purse. The dad was clearly falling asleep, and the mom kept nudging him back awake. He snickered to himself, grateful that he wasn't the only one who was bored. The principle of the school was also sitting on the small stage with the graduating class, looked like he was being forced to sit through a silent foreign film. Dean couldn't remember himself or Sam ever going through one of these rituals when they were in school, except of course, their ACTUAL graduation. He wondered how in the world someone thought it was a good idea to have a graduation ceremony with twenty rambunctious kindergarteners. He sat up in his chair, looking once again for Natalie. She was sitting in one of the small red plastic chairs with the other kids, swinging her legs and looking bored out of her mind while her teacher droned on and on. He grinned to himself- bored from the lack of action- yeah, that was his kid, alright. Natalie caught his eye, and waved at him. He smiled and waved back. She really did look adorable in that purple outfit.

Finally, Miss Benson stopped talking all about the amazing achievements of the kids, how far they'd come, blah blah blah, and started handing out the fake diplomas. Dean and Sam exchanged another silent look, praying that this meant that they were close to the end. The cameras all around them clicked feverishly. Dean just shook his head. When Bobby had told them about this little end of the year thing, he knew that he was going to have to make it back to South Dakota to be there, come hell or high water. But it was still nothing short of torture, and Dean knew a thing or two about torture.

The kids continued to make their way to the microphone as their names were called. Miss Benson would then ask what they wanted to be when they grew up. The typical answers of "a Doctor", "a Mommy", "a Movie Star", were shouted out. He fidgeted nervously, wondering about what Natalie was going to say when Miss Benson asked her what she wanted to be when she grew up. He knew she understood that being a hunter wasn't something to talk about in public, but he also knew that she was just stubborn enough to decide to do it anyways. He continued to squirm in the tight confines of the uncomfortable chairs, till Bobby smacked his leg.

"Knock it off," the old man growled at him.

"Sorry," Dean muttered. "My ass is asleep."

Bobby snorted, and looked down significantly at his wheelchair. "Yeah. Tell me about it," he replied snarkily. Just then, Miss Benson called Natalie's name. All three of them sat up a little straighter in their chairs, craning to get a good look at her. She slipped off the end of her chair and walked over to the microphone that was set at the lowest height possible for all these kids. Natalie beamed at the audience, which made Dean snort again. Trust his kid to milk her moment in the spotlight.

"Well, now Natalie," Miss Benson said sweetly, looking in the audience. When she saw Dean, he just gave her his rock star smile, and her face flushed red. She stammered for a moment, tripping over her words due to the sudden blush in her cheeks.

Sam, having caught the exchange between the two of them, leaned over to Dean. "Really?" he hissed patronizingly. "Across the whole room, dude?"

Dean just flashed him his cocky grin. "What can I say? I'm just that good."

Miss Benson seemed to untie her tongue, and continued. "Natalie- what do you want to be when you grow up?"

Natalie stepped towards the microphone confidently. "When I grow up, I want to be..."

Dean sat upright. Here we go- Moment of Truth.

"...a douche bag!"

Dean jerked back at her words, surprised as all hell. Sam spit out the mouthful of coffee that he had just been trying to swallow. Bobby leaned over to the boys. "Whuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut did she just say?" he asked in a shocked whisper.

Dean just shook his head- he had no idea what Natalie meant. The shock at hearing the word "douche bag" come out of her mouth was quickly burning away, and he felt the mad laughter rising up in him. The small amount of social decorum he had left forbade it from bursting out, and he quickly clamped his lips together, trying to keep the mirth in. Miss Benson, however, had not recovered so quickly. Her mouth was hanging open as she tripped over her words again, trying to figure out what Natalie had just said.

"I...I'm sorry...what did you just say?" the poor teacher stammered. Natalie turned to look at her, then leaned closer into the mic, enunciating clearly.

" A douche bag," she repeated loudly, convinced that Miss Benson hadn't heard her the first time. Dean couldn't help it- he blurted out a short laugh, then slapped his hand over his mouth. He wasn't the only one. The dad across the aisle was snickering, with his wife madly elbowing him. The principle onstage had stuffed his fist into his mouth to keep from laughing, his face turning beet red. Dean focused back on Natalie, who was shrugging at her teacher's lack of understanding.

"You know. One of those people that drive around in the blue cars with the lights on the top. That make you stop when you're driving too fast!" she explained. Sam turned to Dean with an outraged bitch face. Dean was still trying to keep from guffawing, and Natalie's explanation certainly didn't help. So apparently, she HAD heard him call the cop a douche bag last night, and now she thought that was what they were named. His insides shook from trying to hold in the explosive laughter. As the audience made the connection- that Natalie was calling a 'cop' a 'douche bag'- they began to giggle and chuckle themselves. Miss Benson was looking flustered, and desperately tried to do damage control.

"Oh, Natalie," she said, trying to catch her breath. "That's not what they're called, sweetie."

Natalie shrugged. "That's what my Dad calls them." She then turned and gave her angelic smile to the crowd again.

"Oh my god," Sam said, slinking down in his seat, covering his face with his hand. Bobby just stared at her, his jaw on the floor. Dean, however, was having one of the Greatest Moments of his life. He couldn't hold it back anymore. He burst out laughing, as did most of the crowd. The principal on the platform was doubled over, almost in tears from the mirth. The whole room exploded in laughter, and someone started applauding. Dean had never felt so proud in his life. Natalie just smiled again, and pranced back to her seat. Miss Benson rushed through the rest of the kids- luckily, since Natalie's last name was Winchester, she had been towards the bottom of the list, so there were only two more kids to go. It was a good thing too- the room was still chuckling and tittering, unable to contain itself. Miss Benson wrapped it up as neatly as she could, and dismissed everyone, practically diving off the stage in an effort to get out of the room.

Natalie came rushing off the stage, making a bee line straight for her father. Dean stood up, and walked into the crowded aisle with all the parents trying to collect their kids. He saw a middle age dad give Natalie a high five as she passed him. Dean chuckled again. When she reached his feet, he picked her up and set her on his hip.

"Congratulations, squirt! You were awesome!" he said. Natalie beamed at him.

"Thanks, Daddy!" He began pushing his way through the crowd towards the exit, with Sam wheeling Bobby out, right behind them. Bobby's jaw was still on the floor, not having recovered from Natalie's announcement. Dean just kept snickering. _Best. Day. Ever_ , he thought to himself.

Natalie tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention, then leaned into him like she was sharing a secret. "I didn't talk about being a hunter!" she whispered excitedly into him ear. Dean's face twisted in amusement.

"No, no you certainly did not," he said, still laughing. "You did great, kiddo."

"Do you think everyone liked what I said?"

Dean looked at his precious baby girl. Her large green eyes were searching his for approval. "Natalie," he said. "Trust me. No one is ever going to forget what you said tonight."

She smirked, satisfied. "Yeah. I'm awesome."

"Yes you are."


	10. The Winchester Prank War

**Hey fabulous SPN family! Here's to you having a great day!**

 **Special thanks to my friend, Jenmm31. She's a Chuck-Send (see what I did there? :) ) Seriously, though, go check out her stories and show her some love, because she's the coolest in the world, and deserves the best!**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is 7. Disclaimer- please see profile.**

Little did he know, this was about to be one of the best moments of his life.

Dean had been out, picking up supplies in the town of their latest case. His hands were full of plastic shopping bags. Some contained salt, others, shot gun shells, still others, beer and chips. He wrestled all the bags out of the car, and closed the door to the Impala carefully with his foot. He walked up to the entrance of the crappy motel room they were staying at, cursing to himself that he hadn't left out his keys before loading his hands up with all of his purchases. He shifted the bags, trying to fish the keys out that he had just stuffed in his pocket. He finally had to set the bags down at the door, annoyed as hell. He yanked the key out, still cursing under his breath, inserted it into the lock, and turned the knob. As he was pushing the door open, he leaned down to get the bags, when he heard it.

"Shut. Up."

Dean stood up in surprise at Sam's tone- he hadn't even _said_ anything, let alone stepped in the room. But when Dean got a glimpse of what was in front of him, he immediately understood why Sam had spoken.

Dean's seven year old daughter, Natalie, had her hands in Sam's hair. One side of his head was already woven into an elaborate French braid, and she was working on a matching braid on the other side, her little tongue poking out of her mouth as she concentrated on her task. Sam was sitting there, gritting his teeth at hearing Dean's key in the lock, knowing that he would never, ever, _ever,_ hear the end of this.

Dean froze in the doorway, taking in the oh-so-glorious moment. His mouth slowly stretched open in delight. He tossed the bags to the side of the room, his eyes never leaving the hair-braiding party.

"I said, shut up," Sam growled, but didn't turn his head to look at his brother.

"Hi Dad," Natalie tossed over her shoulder, as if she didn't know that she was unintentionally providing Dean with enough cannon fodder to harass his brother with for...at least the next few months, possibly more.

"You know what?" Dean said, the utter joy of the moment ringing in his voice, his shit-eating grin plastered on his face. "I'm going to go outside, and come back in, just so I can have this moment all over again."

"Dean-" Sam began, but Dean was already gone. When the door was closed, Dean took a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut, the huge grin threatening to crack his face in two. He opened the door again, with a loud "Honey! I'm Home!", and took the whole scene in once more. Natalie was still concentrating hard on getting the braid just right, and so ignored her father's antics. Sam, however, was indignantly tapping his fingers on his thigh.

"Was that really necessary?" Sam asked, annoyed.

"Abso-freaking-lutely," Dean responded cheerfully. He strode over towards the makeshift beauty salon, a bounce in his step. "So!" he asked jauntily. "Whatcha doin'?" He could barely keep the glee in his voice from breaking out.

"I wanted to learn how to French braid, but I couldn't do it on my own hair, just yet. So Uncle Sam's being really nice and letting me practice on him!" Natalie explained.

"Well. Isn't that special!" Dean gushed out in a teasing tone, causing Sam to shift uncomfortably again.

"Uncle Sam! Hold still!" Natalie scolded as she almost dropped a strand of hair.

"You better listen to your beautician, Samantha," Dean said seriously, before his face twisted into a grin again.

"Dean, if you even..." Sam began. Dean started shushing him, placing a finger on his lips.

"Shhh, Sammy. Just lay back and accept it." Sam smacked Dean's hand away from his face, but tried to keep his head still so he wouldn't mess Natalie up, and she'd have to restart this whole awful process. She got to the end of Sam's long hair, and wrapped one of her rubber hair things around the end. Sam just sat there, unwilling to look Dean in the face and admit that he was going to be his brother's bitch for...at least the next two days, probably.

"A fine job you've done, squirt," Dean said, complimenting his daughter. She beamed at Dean, and hugged Sam around his neck. He reached up and patted her arm affectionately, but still refused to turn his head to look at Dean.

"Aw, come on, Sammy. Let's see the pretty pretty princess look," Dean said, practically jumping with joy.

Sam turned his head as he spoke. "Dean, I swear to god, if you take a..."

CLICK.

Dean had had his phone at the ready, just waiting for the perfect photo opportunity. He chuckled as he saved the picture. "Oh, this is SO going on the Christmas card this year," he said, the evil laughter in his voice.

"Erase that, right now!" Sam yelled. Dean didn't even pay attention, he was too busy typing away. Sam suddenly realized what 'Dean typing' meant.

"Don't you even think about..."

"And, send," Dean said, jamming his finger onto the key with delight.

Immediately, Sam's phone buzzed in his pocket. He whipped it out. Sure enough, Dean, who was walking over towards the dumped bags still chortling, had sent the picture to what looked like his entire contact list. Sam just sighed and hung his head.

"Daddy, don't be mean to Uncle Sam!" Natalie scolded. "He was really nice to let me braid his hair."

"You're right kiddo. He's the nicest lady in the place."

"And he said that since I braided his hair, that I can paint your toenails!"

Dean stopped in surprise, and turned around to look at Natalie. "Hold on there. Nobody is painting nothing on me."

She gave him her best bitch face. _Damn Sam for teaching her that,_ Dean thought. "Why not?" Natalie insisted.

"Because I said so, that's why." He picked up the bags and placed them on his bed, beginning to sort them out.

"Aw, c'mon! I want to learn how to do a pedi- pedi- Uncle Sam, what do you call it?"

"A pedicure," Sam said, his own evil grin meeting his brother's stubborn look.

Natalie walked up to her dad, tugging on his sleeve. "Pleeeeeeeeeeeease?" she said in her most innocent voice. Dean turned around to see the wide puppy dog eyes. He leaned down and looked her directly in the face.

"Kiddo, I love you more than my own life. But I will never- and let me be clear- NEVER- have my toenails painted. End of discussion," he said, tapping her on the nose with one finger. Her sad puppy eyes were instantly replaced with a childish pursing of her lips. Dean knew that she meant that look to be intimidating, but it was so damn cute. He chuckled, and resumed digging through the bags.

"Why don't you do a pedicure on Uncle Sam? Give him something nice to go with his fabulous new 'do," he said, still snickering.

Natalie shook her head and stomped her little foot. "He said that I got to paint your toenails since he was getting his hair braided."

"Well, Uncle Sam was wrong."

Natalie sighed and walked back to her uncle, who was furiously deleting the text messages as they came in. She leaned over his shoulder, and read one.

* _Why do you have snakes growing out of your head?_ Natalie giggled to herself- that one had to be Castiel, but Sam deleted it before she could read who it was from.

"Ah, dammit, I left the lighter fluid in the car," Dean said, suddenly realizing he was missing a bag. "I'll be right back. And Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you want me to get you some lipstick the next time I'm out?"

Sam just threw a pillow at the door, which Dean dodged easily, shutting the door behind him. They could hear his laughter all the way in the parking lot. Suddenly, Sam had a brain wave.

"Natalie!" he said in a whisper. Natalie turned her head from examining her father's purchases.

"Yeah?" she said.

"Come here, quick." She ran over to him, and stood silently, facing him. He leaned in, a wide grin spreading on his face.

"I think it's time to teach you the fine art of the Winchester Prank War."

*SPN SPN SPN*

That night, Dean was sleeping peacefully. They had a new case, fresh round of supplies, and Natalie had inadvertently provided him with a fantastic running gag to torture Sam with until this case was over. He was so deeply asleep in his own bliss, that around two o clock in the morning, he didn't even feel the small hands pushing the bedclothes away from his feet, or hear the quiet breathing of a concentrating seven year old.

All of the sudden, a brushing of someone else's skin across his bare feet made his eyes instantly snap open. But before he could move, a humongous weight fell on him, directly onto his torso, knocking all the air out of his lungs. He gasped for breath for a moment, trying, in his sleep befuddled state, to make sense of what was going on. Before he could really catch his breath, Sam spoke up.

"He didn't knock over the bottle, did he?" Dean blinked sleepily- Sam's voice had come from...overhead. He focused on the thing sitting on his chest, and sure enough, it was Sam. Sam, however, wasn't looking back at him. He was staring down at the end of the bed, at Dean's feet.

"Whuzz goin' on?" Dean asked, sleepily. He tried to get up, but Sam was pinning him down to the bed with no intention of getting up. Dean craned his head to the side. What he saw absolutely horrified him.

His toenails were bright purple.

Natalie, clad in her Batman pajamas, was concentrating hard on slathering the nail polish perfectly onto each nail. "No, he didn't knock over the bottle- I got it!" she said with delight.

"Hey!" Dean yelled. She looked up innocently and smiled at him. "You stop that, right now!" he commanded.

"I'm almost done," she said patronizingly, and went right back to work. Dean's mouth dropped open. Sam chuckled with glee. Dean's furious gaze moved to his brother. "Sam!" he grunted. "Get off of me. Now!"

"No can do, big brother. You might mess up your pedicure."

"Sammy, I swear to god, if you don't..." Sam stopped Dean by pressing a finger to his lips.

"Sh...just lay back and let it happen," Sam whispered evilly, just as Dean had done to him earlier. Dean thunked his head back down on the pillow, unable to believe this turn of events. He tried bucking Sam off again, but his giant moose of a brother had him down good.

"Daddy! Quit squirming!" Natalie scolded. Dean gritted his teeth while Sam just laughed. Dean leaned his head forward again as far as he could.

"When this is over, you both are dead meat. You're gonna wish you had never even heard of the words 'nail polish'. Got me?" he roared in his most intimidating, scary voice- the voice that had made demons flinch, vampires go running for cover, and skin walkers jump out of their skins. He got no response from the seven year old girl. Sam simply held up his camera phone and snapped a picture.

*SPN SPN SPN*

The next morning, Dean had tried everything he knew of to scrub the purple polish off. Despite all his ministrations, his toes still looked like they had been sucked on by a big purple dinosaur. He stormed out of the bathroom. Natalie was sitting at the motel room table, working on school work, in spite of the fact that it was only eight o' clock in the morning.

"Sam go get breakfast?" Dean asked. Natalie nodded, and looked up from her book. Her eyes immediately scanned down to her father's bare feet, where her toils from the night before were still evident. She grinned hugely.

"Don't know what you're grinning about," Dean snarled at her. "You're in big trouble, missy."

Natalie's eyes swung to his face. "For what?" she asked innocently.

Dean's eyes widened, and he gave a disbelieving huff as he pointed to his purple toenails.

"Oh. That."

"Yeah, that."

"Uncle Sam said I wouldn't get in trouble for that."

"Really."

"Uh-huh."

"Uncle Sam was, once again, wrong."

"He said I wouldn't get in trouble because it was a prank."

That made Dean stop short. He took a moment to digest Natalie's words. If Sam was teaching Natalie about pranks... His brain began to spin out as the possibilities of the moment came at him, wave after glorious wave.

"A prank, you say."

"Yup. He said it was time I learned the 'art of the Winchester Prank War'." For the second time in twenty four hours, Dean's mouth stretched open with sheer delight.

"A prank war, huh? Did he tell you anything else about this prank war?" he asked, trying to keep his voice casual. Oh, he had waited for this day for so long...

Natalie shrugged. "Not really. He just said that we had to work together, and he told me the plan, and we did it." She looked at Dean inquisitively. "So what happens now?"

Dean rubbed his hands together eagerly. "Now, my minion, it is our turn. And...we wait."

"Wait for what?"

"The perfect opportunity." Dean turned away from her, his prankster mind going at ninety miles an hour. "Game on, little brother. Game on."

*SPN SPN SPN*

Sam had expected Dean to retaliate immediately with a prank, but it was three days later, and there had been absolutely nothing. Sam knew that wasn't a good sign. It just meant Dean was plotting something. And Dean plotting something was never to be taken lightly. He had been on his guard, double checking everything from his beer bottles to his clothing, both popular targets in the Dean Winchester Prank arsenal. They had finished the case they were working on, and were heading back to Bobby's for a while.

Another two days after being home, Sam was starting to relax. It was possible that Dean just wasn't feeling a prank war right now. This would be the first time in history, but never had he taken so long to respond either. He was a pretty in-the-moment kind of guy. Regardless, Sam let his guard down.

Which was exactly what Dean had been teaching Natalie to wait for.

That night, Dean was on dinner duty, and as such, enlisted Natalie's help. When everything was nearly ready, Natalie went searching through the house, looking for Sam. She found him up in his room, reading. She knocked on the door.

"Come in!" he said. She pushed it open a bit, and poked her head in.

"Dinner's ready, Uncle Sam." He put a bookmark in, and dropped the novel on the bed. She eyed it curiously.

"Whatcha reading?" she asked.

"Game of Thrones," he said.

"What's it about?"

"Stuff to make you ask a lot of questions, Bug," he responded with a chuckle. Natalie just rolled her eyes. That was her uncle's go-to answer when she asked about stuff that he deemed "too old" for her. No matter. She'd just ask Dean later. Sam noticed her taking her time walking with him, instead of just tearing down the stairs, like she usually did.

"Is Bobby down there already? Sam asked her. She nodded. "Is that why you're actually walking for once, and not running?" he laughed.

She shrugged and grinned. "Pops gets mad when I run in the house, so I don't anymore." Sam looked sideways at his niece, marveling at how mature she was getting, even though she was only seven. "And yes, he's already in the kitchen. Come on, I'm hungry!" she said, taking his hand and tugging on it. Sam just laughed and picked up the pace.

When they got into the kitchen, Sam saw that they had already set the table. To his surprise, a small side salad was waiting at each place. Sam's curious gaze swung to Dean, who caught it and shrugged.

"You're always harping on us to eat better- I figured I'd try it. But only once, mind you," Dean said, pointing a finger at Sam.

"Well, good job. I'm proud of you," Sam said.

"I can't take all the credit- it was actually Natalie's idea."

"Really?" Sam turned, and ruffled Natalie's hair. "Well done, kid!"

She gave him her adorable grin. "Thanks, Uncle Sam!" Bobby started making his way towards his chair, slowly. "Sit down, Pops, dinner's ready!" Natalie announced loudly, causing all the men to wince at the decibel level.

"Geez, kid, you seem to get louder and louder the older you get," he complained. Natalie just giggled, and skipped towards the stove where Dean was putting the final touches on the burgers he was making. She grabbed his sleeve and tugged.

"Dad! Come on!" she whispered urgently, her mischievous grin spreading on her face.

"Patience, my padawan, patience," he whispered back, leaning down towards her. "Don't give him any reason to suspect that something's up." Natalie nodded once, and let Dean's sleeve go. She pranced back to her seat, clambering up into it, and tried to school her features into a calm mask, just like her dad had taught her to. For a seven year old, she was already pretty good at it. Dean made his way towards the table, the hot platter in his hands. He set it down, and took his seat with the rest of his family. He casually picked up the vinaigrette dressing that he knew Sam liked, and passed it over to his brother.

"Thanks," Sam said, taking the bottle, and shaking some onto his salad. "So did you make the salad all by yourself, Nat?" he asked. She nodded proudly.

"I picked it all out and even chopped up all the tomatoes and stuff!" she said, beaming with joy.

"Did you think it was a good idea to give a seven year old a chopping knife?" Bobby asked Dean scathingly. Dean's eyes rolled, then landed on Bobby.

"She already knows how to throw one. Figured I could at least teach her what they're really used for." Bobby thought for a moment, then shrugged and nodded. Dean was actually right for once. Meanwhile, Sam was busy digging into his salad. It was actually pretty good- he was impressed. Natalie had tossed in quite a variation of vegetables, and there was this unique flavor to it as well. It was like a touch of a spice that he couldn't name. He took another big mouthful. There it was again- only this time, it was more than a touch of spice. Whatever he had bitten into, was now burning. Burning profusely. He coughed once, hoping that he had just bitten down on a peppercorn or something, but the ache didn't stop. His eyes darted up to the rest of the people at the table. It was only then that he noticed Dean grinning evilly at him, and Natalie squirming in her chair, looking like she was waiting for Christmas Day to start. Before he could utter a single word- which would have been difficult due to the fact that his mouth was on fire- Dean spoke.

"Yeah. Natalie did a great job making the salad, didn't she?" He turned towards his daughter with the air of a talk show host interviewing a guest. Natalie turned back to him, with the look of pious innocence on her face.

"So tell me, Natalie- what's your secret ingredient?" he asked. Sam's watering eyes widened. He looked at his niece in horror.

"Ghost chilies!" she squeaked, and then burst into giggles. Sam nearly went ballistic. Ghost chilies were one of the hottest peppers known to all mankind. The burn could last for hours, not to mention, tear up his insides like a hellhound with an expired contract. He reached for his glass of water, only to find there was none there. He scrambled for a moment, then his peppered out brain asked the only thing it could think of.

"Where's my water?" he gasped, the burn now reaching maximum scoval levels. He saw Dean nudge Natalie, and raise his eyebrows at her. She nodded in acknowledgement of the cue. She turned back to Sam with her angelic smile.

"I'm sorry- we're all out of water today!" she said, in what was clearly a carefully rehearsed line. Dean just shot Sam his most cocky grin, as if to say, _yeah, I totally told her to say that._ Sam bolted from the table towards the kitchen cabinets. He could hear both Dean and Natalie roaring with laughter behind him as he fumbled for a glass, desperately hoping they had milk in the fridge to soothe the burn. He yanked the fridge open and pulled out the milk jug, quickly pouring himself a glassful, and downing it as fast as he could.

"Geez, Sammy, I half expected you to chug from the carton. Even on fire, you're still such a girl!" Dean said, in between peals of laughter. Sam just glared at him- his mouth was still burning too badly to speak. He poured himself another glass. He was going to get Dean back for this. Big time. Whatever he came back with, it had to be epic. His eyes narrowed, and his brain set to work. He didn't answer, just sat back down at the table, still sweating profusely. He just glared at his brother.

"Jerk," he finally spat out hoarsely.

At that, Natalie laughed so hard, she fell off her chair, causing Dean to whoop like a gibbon, and even Bobby started to chuckle. She picked herself back up and plopped back down, still giggling madly. "All's fair in the Winchester Prank War, Uncle Sam!" she managed to get out before succumbing to giggles again. Dean was laughing watching his daughter in hysterics, paying no mind to Sam at all.

"Hold on," Bobby said. "You idjits are in the middle of another one of your prank wars? And you brought the kid into it?" No one answered him, but they didn't need to. Between Dean's smug grin, Natalie's giggles, and Sam's watery eyes, that was all the confirmation he needed. He shook his head and looked at Sam.

"You're getting rusty, boy." He pointed to Sam's salad. "Even **I** saw that one coming a mile away."

*SPN SPN SPN*

It had been a month. A whole month. They had ganked a werewolf that had been terrorizing the outskirts of Detroit, rescued a family being tormented by a poltergeist in Pennsylvania, and almost gotten arrested- twice. And still, Sam hadn't retaliated. Dean suspected he was pissed because Natalie was so deeply involved in pranking now. She had been trying to pull fast ones over on the two of them almost daily. All the juvenile tricks from joy buzzers to whoopee cushions. Silly String was becoming a particular favorite, but her supply seemed to be out, and they had collectively agreed to not let her anywhere near any store that may replenish her supply. Dean knew it was coming- but he had no idea why it was taking Sam so long.

They had heard of a case in Kansas, where supposedly stray cats and dogs were attacking people in the street. They had just pulled in the night before. Owing to Natalie's love of all things that had to do with dogs, Dean and Sam had told her she was going to be spending a lot of time in the motel on this one. Sam had been working on an elaborate school assignment for her, to keep her occupied while they were dealing with the case. She was doing very well with her "road" schooling, as she called it, and Sam found he kept having to up the level from where she would normally be at in a public school. He had devised a big history assignment, bound to keep her busy researching and writing while they worked on the animal case.

The first morning of the case was when Sam and Natalie decided to strike. Dean slipped into the bathroom to take a shower, and they immediately went into action. By the time he emerged about ten minutes later, Natalie was calmly sitting at the table working on her history, while Sam was tying his shoes. He was wearing his jeans, but had apparently forgotten to take a shirt into the bathroom with him. Or (he later discovered) Natalie was just really good at silently picking locks and slipping into rooms.

He yanked his duffle bag onto his bed. One of his favorite tee shirts was right on top, so he pulled it on over his head. He made to pull it down the rest of the way over his torso, but noticed something odd. The shirt seemed to be...out of fabric. He yanked down on it, thinking it was just folded underneath itself or stuck or something, but the shirt wouldn't yield. He pulled so hard he actually heard the material tear. He ripped the shirt off over his head, and turned to glare at the other two Winchesters in the room. Sam was finishing knotting his laces. He looked up nonchalantly.

"What?" he said. His eyes traveled to Dean's hands holding what was left of the shrunken shirt. "What did you do to your shirt?" he asked innocently. Dean just growled under his breath, and looked at his daughter. She hadn't moved. Her eyes were still scanning her history book, but he could see the smallest hint of a smile on her face.

"That the best you two got?" Dean said, balling up his shirt and tossing it at Natalie's head. She looked up and caught it with her lightning reflexes. She unraveled the shirt and held it up in front of her. It was so small, she could have easily fit in it. She looked up at him like she had no idea what was going on, but he wasn't fooled. She couldn't seem to keep the corners of her mouth from turning up.

"What did you do to your shirt, Daddy?" she asked, then clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles.

"A ha ha ha. Shut it," he growled at her playfully. He yanked another shirt out of his duffle bag, and held it up. Sure enough, it too looked like it was built for a toddler instead of a thirty nine year old man. He kept pulling shirt after shirt out, coming to the realization as to why it had taken these two yokels so long to retaliate. They had replaced all his tee shirts with tiny versions of the originals.

"Son of a bitch!" he yelled. He turned to Sam. "Where are they?" he roared.

"Where are what?" Sam asked, his own grin plastered on.

"Oh, for god's sake," Dean grumbled. He finally found a shirt at the bottom of the duffle that didn't seem to be sized for a midget. He shook the heather gray tee shirt out from its folded form, and turned his head towards Sam and Natalie. "Ha!" he said triumphantly, pulling the shirt over his head. "You missed one."

"Did we, though?" Sam said casually. Dean froze, then turned to look at himself in the motel room mirror hanging on the wall. A very colorful kitten was plastered on the front. He had completely missed the kitten graphic when he was taunting his brother and daughter. He instantly tore the shirt off. He knew better than to try to go for Sam's duffle bag, so he begrudgingly turned the shirt inside out and put it back on. Natalie had turned back to her school work with a delighted grin. Sam slapped his thighs, and stood up.

"Come on, let's go," he announced cheerfully. Dean just rolled his eyes and pulled his boots towards him. He angrily jammed one boot on, and was rewarded by a sudden cracking of his toes. His feet had hit a barrier inside his boots, making them way too small. He looked up once more to see Sam and Natalie both watching him this time, evil grins on both faces.

"Really?!" he thundered, plunging his hand into the boot, pulling out a wad of cotton that had been stuffed into the toe. He threw it at Sam, who just laughed and bobbed his head at his niece.

"Wow! The shirts are small, the boots are small. Dad- you must be getting your growth spurt!" Natalie pronounced. Dean just did a slow burn to her, not believing what was coming out of her mouth. _Sam did a hell of a job coaching her through this one,_ he thought bitterly. And she wasn't even done yet.

"Maybe now you'll be as tall as Uncle Sam!"

Sam doubled over laughing at that. Dean continued to glare at his daughter, and she just smugly returned the look.

"You both have no idea what's coming at you. Don't come crying to me when it gets to be too much," he threatened with a growl. He stalked out of the door, Sam right on his tail. He unlocked the car door, and threw himself into the driver's seat of the Impala. But his knees crunched against the steering wheel.

They had moved his car seat.

They had touched Baby.

Dean rocketed out of the car, and walked directly in front of Sam, who was still laughing.

"You messed with my car," he said quietly. Sam stopped laughing. Dean stepped around him, and stalked back to the room. Throwing open the door, he didn't even stop moving, walking straight up to Natalie.

"Did you touch Baby?" he growled. Her laughing green eyes suddenly went wide as she heard the no-longer-joking tone of his voice. He was towering over her, and to a seven year old, he was huge. She slunk down in her chair a bit, not daring to move her eyes away from Dean's face. As Sam walked through the door, she pointed at him timidly.

"He did it," she whispered urgently. Sam threw up his hands in disgust.

"Way to throw me under the bus, kid," he said, a trace of humor still in his voice. That little joking lilt in Sam's voice did Dean in. He whipped around, and pounded back to Sam, getting right in his face.

"You messed with my car?!" he yelled. Sam held up his hands placating him.

"Just the seat. We didn't do anything else, I swear," he said in a calming tone, that idiotic grin still on his lips.

Dean pointed a finger right in Sam's face. "If you did, Sammy, I swear to god I'll-"

"There's nothing else," Sam said, cutting his raving brother off. Dean nodded one short jerky nod, then yelled over his shoulder.

"Natalie!" he bellowed. She slunk down even farther in her chair. "Come here!" he ordered. In spite of the fact that it was the last thing on Earth she wanted to do, she obeyed, walking quickly over to him. Before he could say anything, she spoke in a whisper, afraid.

"I'm sorry, Daddy. We were just having fun. I didn't mean to make you mad," she said miserably. Dean took a deep breath. Great. He had scared her. Once again, his insane overreactions hurt his kid. He kneeled down so he could look at her on her level.

"It's okay, squirt," he said, trying to calm his voice down. "I'm not mad. But- and listen good to this- when we pull pranks in this family, the car stays out of it. Got it?"

"Yes sir," she said, a bit louder than before, a hint of relief in her voice as she realized that Dean wasn't actually mad at her. Dean stood up straight and fixed Sam with a focused gaze.

"Next time? No car."

Sam just nodded, unable to keep from grinning. He knew Dean would be over this in a few minutes, and everything would be fine. Dean just shook his head, then looked back at the two of them.

"You two almost ran out your time limit on this one. A whole month?" Dean asked, a touch of lightness back in his voice. Sam's grin just broadened.

"We had to find a duffle bag's worth of shirts that looked enough like yours," Sam explained.

Natalie giggled once, and Dean's face finally cracked into a smile. She looked up, realizing that he had recovered his humor, and she grinned back. "Did you like the kitten shirt bit?" she asked tentatively.

"I have to admit. That was a nice touch," he said, his mouth twisting to the side in amusement.

"That one was all Natalie," Sam proclaimed. Dean looked with amazement down at her. She was grinning proudly, twisting from side to side. He just chuckled.

"That's my girl," he said, ruffling her hair. She giggled and grabbed his hand.

"Hey!" she said, tugging his hand. He looked down at her. "I love you," she said, with her heart stopping grin.

He put on his best cocky grin and shrugged. "I know," he said casually, which caused her to giggle again. "I love you too, fuzz ball."

"I know!" she said in between fits of laughter.

"Good," he said. "So now we come to the truce." Sam sighed, but nodded.

"What's a truce?" Natalie asked, wiping her eyes from the tears of laughter.

"It's when we all stop pranking each other and get back to normal, everyday life," Sam explained. She wrinkled her little nose.

"That's no fun," she complained. Dean nodded in agreement.

"I know. But truces must be made- and kept. Got it?" he asked, pointing at her.

She tilted her head coyingly to one side. "Got it," she said sincerely. Dean looked inquisitively at Sam. They didn't even need to speak. Sam reached out his hand, and Dean grasped it. They shook on it, once.

"Wow. A whole month to set that one up. Damn, Sammy, I think you went for a new record." The brothers laughed together. Natalie didn't say anything. She was already too busy planning the next move for when the Winchester Prank War resumed.


	11. Sugar Rush

**Hello Beautiful SPN Family! I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving. I want to start by saying a HUGE thanks to everyone who's taken the time to read, review, favorite, or anything. You guys mean the world to me- your reviews are like manna. I am so grateful for each and every one of you. Sorry that it's taken me so long to publish- you know, life...ugh. Anyways, here's a little glimpse into Dean and Sam's "parenting" styles, LOL. I hope you enjoy it!**

 **Much gratitude, hugs, and boatloads of thanks to Jenmm31. She's been an amazing friend, support system, and incredible muse! Seriously, like half the stuff I write comes from her questions about Natalie. I'm forever indebted to her! Go check out her stories- you can find them under my "Favorites". She's an incredible writer herself. Hey Jen- "Entrar en el coche, Sammy."**

 **Please read, review, and enjoy! Disclaimer: Please see profile page.**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is four**

"Let it Goooooooooooooooo, Let it Gooooooooooooo, Can't hold it back anymooooooooooooooooooooooore..."

Sam and Dean both heaved an enormous sigh. Dean was driving, one hand on the steering wheel, the other hand holding his head up with his elbow propped against the window. Sam was rubbing his temples, trying to ease away the tension.

"Turn away and slam the dooooooooooooooooooooor..."

Dean pursed his lips and took a deep breath. This was the 479th time they had heard this song. Today. Natalie was buckled into her booster seat in the back, singing her lungs out. Sam finally took his hands off his head, and slapped them down on his thighs.

"Hey," he said to his brother, his voice full of annoyance. "Remember when I said that M&M's for dinner was a bad idea?"

"Sam, I'm already listening to the Best of Disney on permanent repeat- I don't need to hear 'I told you so' again for the thousandth time, alright?"

"I'm just saying that letting a four year old decide to eat nothing but sugar right before a long car trip isn't the wisest move you've ever made."

"Yeah, I got that. Now shut up."

Sam fell silent. Dean stretched his neck from side to side as they raced down the dark highway. It was almost ten o'clock- Natalie had to tire out sometime. She was already clad in her pajamas- a rule when they were taking long, late night car trips. If they had to wake her up to try to put pajamas on when they got to the motel, she would be up for hours. Dean prayed she was getting close to falling asleep after her one-toddler show.

"The cold never bothered me anywaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!" Natalie belted from the backseat. She applauded herself, and launched right back into the beginning of the song, complete with choreography.

"How long has she been at this?" Dean muttered. He'd never admit it out loud, but he would rather talk to his annoying brother than hear this song for the 480th time. Sam looked at his watch.

"Going on...thirty minutes now," Sam said despondently. Dean stretched his eyebrows up and exhaled slowly in an effort to keep himself from losing his mind.

"How did she even learn this stupid song anyway?" he grumbled under his breath. Sam shifted nervously, and looked out the window. Dean caught the guilty gesture. He swung his head around to look at his brother.

"Something you want to tell me?" he said, his own voice now laced with annoyance. Sam just fidgeted for another moment.

"Well..." he began nervously. "...come on dude, it's on TV all the time in every motel we go to. She was bound to see it sometime."

"Yeah, but enough to know the entire damn thing? How many times has she seen it?" Dean pressed. Sam stammered for a minute.

"Um...well..." he trailed off faintly. Dean's eyes narrowed. There was no way that the movie was on TV enough for Natalie to have the whole thing memorized.

"Give me your phone," Dean commanded.

"What?" Sam said in surprise.

"You heard me."

"You're driving."

"Big deal."

"What do you want my phone for?"

"I want to see if you downloaded the damn movie. And if you did, your phone is going out the window."

Sam put his hand over the phone in his pocket protectively. "Come on Dean. Do you really think I downloaded Frozen onto my phone? Natalie would never stop trying to steal it if I did that."

Dean paused- Sam had a point. Natalie knew she wasn't supposed to play with their phones, but she always claimed she was doing "research" every time they caught her with them. They certainly didn't need to give her any more reason to try to steal them. Dean thought for another moment, then turned his steely eyed glare back on Sam.

"Fine then. Did you download the soundtrack?" Dean asked. Sam, once again, fell silent. Dean cranked down his window, then held out his hand to Sam, palm up. "Give me your phone," he growled. Sam just rolled his eyes.

"C'mon, she likes it. And it helps put her to sleep," he said, justifying why Natalie knew the entire soundtrack by heart.

"Bang up job it's doing on that right now."

"Well, maybe if she wasn't pumped full of chocolate, it would have worked."

"Dude- do you have any idea how much Batman I'm going to have to watch with her to counteract this?"

"Like that's a problem for you."

"Oh god, I can't take it anymore," Dean moaned as Natalie launched into the song yet again. He loved this kid more than his own life. He could put up with just about anything when it came to her. But his level of patience was being severely tested at the moment. He looked at his daughter in the rearview mirror.

"Natalie, hey, Natalie!" he called, trying to get her attention through her solo concert. She cut off and looked at him in the mirror. He could almost see the sugar buzzing in her wide green eyes.

"Why don't we sing something else for a while?" he suggested. Natalie started bouncing up and down in her booster seat.

"Like what? Like what? Like what?" she chanted.

"I don't know...how about...hey- what about Guns and Roses? Huh?" he asked, his eyes darting back and forth between the road and the hyper child in the backseat. "C'mon, you love Guns and Roses!" he begged, just hoping to break the Disney cycle.

"Yeah! That's a good music to sing to!" Natalie yelled, losing control over her voice in her wound up state. "Welcome to the Jungle!" she screamed, sounding quite a bit like Axel Rose actually. The decibel level was now doubled what it was before. Sam clapped his hands over his ears before her rock and roll turn blew out his eardrums.

"Seriously?!" he shouted at Dean, who was now squirming himself.

"Yeah, okay, that's one's on me," he admitted gruffly. "Hey, NATALIE!" He practically had to scream himself to be heard over the four year old's vocals.

"Welcome to the JUNGLE!"

"NATALIE!"

"IT GETS WORSE HERE EVERY...what?"

"Maybe Guns and Roses wasn't the best idea. How about you sing something else?"

She furrowed her little brow for a moment, thinking. "I like the Frozen song to sing to!"

"Oh, no, I know that," Dean said in a rush. "But..." he mentally started kicking himself for this before it was even out of his mouth. "Is there another song from Frozen that you like too?" He really didn't want to hear anything else that was from _any_ princess _anything_ , but if he had to listen to "Let It Go" one more time, he was going to drive off the cliff.

Natalie put a finger to her lips, thinking. The boys gave a sigh of relief as the car was actually quiet for five seconds- the first time since leaving four hours ago.

"I think we should play Frozen instead of singing it!" Natalie announced, bouncing around again.

"What, like the soundtrack?" Dean asked, with a sideways glare at Sam, who was resolutely looking out of the window.

"No, no no, we play it! Like we pretend to be the people from Frozen!"

"Um...okay?" Dean said, shrugging. _Anything to keep from hearing that song again,_ he thought.

"This is gonna be fun!" Natalie declared, giggling. "I'll be Elsa!"

"Which one is that?" Dean asked.

"She's the blonde one with the ice powers," Sam interjected. "You know, she has the really...long braid...that..." he trailed off as Dean did a slow burn to him, giving him a look that said _could you possibly be more of a girl?_ Sam just looked out the window again.

"Yeah! Unca Sam's right! She's the queen and she has ice powers and she can freeze a kingdom and she sings Let It GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..."

"Okay, okay! You're Elsa- great!" Dean said hurriedly, trying to cut her off.

"And Unca Sam can be Anna."

"I'm Anna?" Sam said, a tiny bit of disgust in his voice. Dean chuckled.

"Of course. You ARE a girl," he teased under his breath.

"Yeah! Because you're really nice and kind and you can put your hair in braids!"

Sam rolled his eyes as Dean hee-hawed at that one. "Okay, so I'll be Anna," Sam said gruffly.

"And Daddy, you can be Hans!"

"Who's Hans? Is he the really cool and handsome prince?" Dean said, puffing out his chest and putting on his best cocky grin.

"No. He's a jerk."

"So I get to play him?" Dean said, a bit off-put by the four year old's casting choices.

"Yeah, 'cause you're a jerk."

"Excuse me?" he said, a warning look in his eyes as he looked at Natalie in the rearview mirror. She has stopped fidgeting at his tone, but wasn't sure why she was in trouble.

"That's what Unca Sam calls you."

Dean shot Sam another dirty look. Sam sighed. "Okay, and THAT one is on me," he admitted.

"And Unca Sam's a bitch!" Natalie continued.

"No arguments here," Dean grumbled.

"Hang on Bug- you can't say that," Sam said.

"Why not?" Natalie asked innocently.

"Those are words for grownups," Sam explained patiently.

"Oh. Okay," Natalie said. Sam prayed that was the end of that, but with Natalie, that was rarely the case.

"Well, can we play Frozen then? Please please please please please?" she begged, undeterred by the rest of the previous conversation.

"Uh...sure. Sure we can," Sam said, looking to Dean for support. Dean just shrugged- he didn't have a flippin' clue what to do.

"Yay! I like this game! Do you have any ice?" Natalie said in a rush.

"What do you need ice for?" Dean asked.

"Daddy!" Natalie said with four year old scorn. "Elsa is the ICE queen. I got to have ICE," she announced, disappointed that her father was so slow on the uptake.

"Of course. My bad," Dean said, grinning in spite of himself at her tone. Sam shook the remainder of the gas station fountain drink he had- it was just about all ice at this point anyways. He turned around and handed it to his niece.

"Here you go, Bug. Lots of ice for you."

"Thanks, Princess Anna!"

Dean snorted.

"You're welcome," Sam said, his face flushing. Before either one of them could get another word out, they both felt wet, cold thumps on the back of their heads simultaneously.

"Hey!" they both yelled in tandem.

"Natalie, what do you think you're doing?" Dean said sternly, trying to fish the piece of ice out of his lap where it had slid down after nailing him in the head.

"I'm Elsa! I'm blasting you with my ice powers!" she said, giggling. Another hail storm of ice came from the backseat. This time, one piece slipped into Sam's collar, and he began a jumpy dance, trying to dislodge it.

"Okay, that's enough of that," Dean said, reaching behind him and snatching the cup out of Natalie's hands. He thrust it into Sam's chest, hoping that some more would spill on to his brother as punishment for giving a hyper four year old a cup of ice grenades.

"Hey!" Natalie yelled, outraged that her game had been ended so soon. "Give it back!"

"No. You know better than to throw things in the car," Dean scolded.

"I wasn't throwing things! I was blasting you with my ice powers!" she exclaimed, at a loss to understand why Dean didn't see the difference.

"Well, no blasting ice powers in the car either. We're done playing Frozen. Play something else."

"I don't want to!"

"Natalie," Dean said. He only said it once, but that was all she needed to understand what he meant. She folded her arms and thumped back against her seat, a frown on her face.

Sam tried to mollify the four year old. "Hey- how about your crayons? Do you want to color?" he asked in an attempt to distract her.

"It's too dark," she growled, pouting.

"Oh no," Sam said, looking at Dean. When Natalie got grumpy, that meant only one thing. "She's crashing." Natalie was clearly on the downward slope of the sugar high- never a good time. Sam turned in his seat towards his niece.

"Are you sure? Come on, you love to color," he said, handing the book and crayons over the seat to her. Within five seconds the crayons came hurtling back over the front seat.

"Hey!" Dean yelled, turning around quickly to catch his daughter's eye. "What did I just tell you about throwing things in the car, little girl?"

Natalie didn't answer. She knew when Daddy called her "little girl" that she was in trouble, and it was usually best not to say anything. Besides, she was still mad at him for not letting her play Elsa. Dean however, wasn't taking any of her attitude.

"Do you want a Time Out?" he continued sternly.

"No," she grumbled under her breath.

"Then knock it off."

They sped down the road in silence. Dean leaned his head back into his left hand. He hated being strict with Natalie, but neither was he going to let her start throwing things in Baby. She was getting into this habit more and more lately of just chucking whatever it was that didn't interest her any more. It didn't matter what it was or where they were- if she lost interest, it went flying. He knew he was going to have to deal with that particular quirk sooner rather than later, but not tonight. He glanced quickly in the rearview mirror to look at her again. She was still sitting with her arms crossed defiantly, but she was starting to slump down. She quickly drew a hand across her face and sniffed. Dean sighed to himself. Natalie hated crying- she always had. He had no idea why, but for some reason she hated the feeling of tears on her face, and whenever she started to cry, she would start running her hands over her eyes in an effort to make it stop. His heart twisted- it was his fault that her little system was going out of control due to all the sugar, not hers. He wanted to make it up to her.

"Hey," he said, in a gentler voice, hoping she would look at him in the mirror. She didn't. "How about Uncle Sam and I tell you stories?" he asked. His heart skipped a small beat when he saw her eyes swing towards his.

"How about the time that Uncle Sam found a lucky rabbit's foot?" he said. Sam shot Dean a bitch face, but Dean didn't care. Natalie was his daughter after all, and as such, absolutely loved stories about them falling or tripping or looking stupid.

"What's a lucky rabbit's foot?" Natalie asked quietly, but intrigued.

"It was this cursed object- a foot from a rabbit that had a charm on it. Now normally, rabbit's feet are supposed to be lucky. But in Sammy's case, his luck ran out," Dean said with a grin.

"What happened?" Natalie said, sitting up and dropping her arms. She loved a good story, and this one was new to her. Bolstered by her interest, Dean went on.

"Well, Uncle Sam got a hold of the rabbit's foot, and at first, everything was awesome. But then, when he lost the foot, that was when everything started to go wrong..." Dean launched into the whole story, leaving out the blood and gore parts that even he wouldn't tell a four year old. When he got to the part about Sam trying to scrape the gum off his shoe and losing it in the sewer, father and daughter were both laughing hysterically. Dean finished up the story.

"...and then his sleeve caught on fire in the motel room!"

Natalie was giggling madly by this time. "You were on fire?!" she gasped, choking on her laughter. Sam felt split- on the one hand, he was glad that she was getting out of her funk, but he was also disturbed by the fact that a four year old was giggling about him being on fire. And Dean wasn't helping- he was laughing just as hard as his daughter.

"Yeah, well, did I ever tell you about the time your dad got his butt kicked by a life sized Barbie?" Sam shot back. Dean immediately stopped laughing.

"What?" Natalie said, still trying to contain her laughter.

"Don't you dare," Dean growled at Sam. Sam just shot his brother his own cocky smile, and launched into his own tale about Dean and Paris Hilton. By the time he was done, Natalie was in hysterics, all bad moods forgotten. The boys continued to tell her stories, all about their adventures, each one trying to trump the last, as they sped down the highway. Finally, Dean looked at her in the rearview mirror again, only to find she had fallen asleep.

"Dude," Dean whispered, nodding his head back towards her. Sam turned, and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the sleeping child. About an hour later, they pulled up to the motel. After getting quickly checked in, Sam went to open the door to their room and get the bags while Dean took care of Natalie. He expertly unbuckled and scooped her out of her seat, her head slumped onto his shoulder. Sam got her bag out of the trunk first, and was fishing in it for her favorite blanket, tossing it to Dean when he found it. Dean gently laid Natalie down on the couch, tucking her in warmly. He just sat on the edge of the seat, watching her slowly breathing in and out.

"She go down okay?" Sam asked after bringing in the rest of the bags.

"Not a peep," Dean said proudly.

"And what did we learn tonight?" Sam asked his brother patronizingly.

Dean rolled his eyes at Sam's prissiness. "No more M&M's for dinner before long road trips."

Sam sighed, exasperated. "No, Dean. No more M&M's for dinner, period."

Dean shrugged. "Hey, if you're watching her for the night, I'm going to fill her full of so much sugar that YOU'LL get cavities." Sam just sighed and turned away, getting ready to sleep. Dean chuckled to himself, and then his gaze dropped back to his daughter. She fidgeted in her sleep, then started twisting a bit. Dean didn't know if she was having a bad dream or if she was just uncomfortable.

"Shhhhh," he said, reaching out a hand to stroke her forehead. The moment she felt his touch, she instantly relaxed, and a smile crossed her face in her sleep. Dean couldn't help but smile back. So she liked Disney crap- that was okay. She liked super heroes and ninjas too. He could deal with more Disney music in his life if that was what she wanted. It never really bothered him, anyway.


	12. Children No Longer Part 1

**Hello fabulous SPN Family! Just wanted to say another huge thank you for all the follows, favorites, and reviews- you guys just make my day. I cannot thank you enough.**

 **Huge special astronomical thanks to Jenmm31- the Sam to my Dean. Girl, still can't do it without you. Guys, if you haven't checked out her stories by now, seriously- go look them up. They're incredible. And she's an amazing person too!**

 **So this is another Case story- I've tried writing a couple cases before, and you all seem to like them, so here's another one! Please let me know what you think! Just like the others, this will be in 3 parts. This is part 1.**

 **Please read, review (because I love hearing from you), and ENJOY!**

 **Big A/N on this story- the background of this case is a true story. The Ludlow Massacre actually happened. I want to pay homage to them by telling their story the way I know how to. If you want to read more about the background, there is a fantastic Wikipedia entry on it. In this story, Natalie is 17. Disclaimer: please see profile page.**

 **Children No Longer Part 1**

Natalie carefully pulled into a parking spot. Even though she was a fantastic driver, she couldn't account for the millions of soccer mom vans and station wagons in the lot of the small park, so she took her time. She maneuvered the Impala into a space that was just far enough away from the other parked cars to put her father's mind at ease. She smirked to herself- she didn't even have to look at Dean, who was sitting at one of the park's picnic tables, to know that his eyes were following his Baby, and every move that Natalie made it in. Besides, they weren't going to be staying at this park long- just enough to find their new case and head out of dodge. Natalie was excited- now that she was seventeen, her dad had been reluctantly letting her drive more and more. He still wouldn't let her take her own car, which was currently sitting in Bobby's lot, out on hunting trips, but he was letting her occasionally drive the Impala, for very short distances. She hoped he would actually relent long enough to let her take a driver's shift on this next trip.

She exited the car with the coffee cup tray balanced in her hand. Her eyes darted over towards Dean, working at his laptop, looking for new cases on the internet. Sam was off at the local library across from the park, searching the papers for anything new and job-worthy. Natalie had been sent on her usual errand- getting the morning coffee. She often got too distracted by the other news stories to be able to focus on the weird and suspicious ones, so Sam and Dean unofficially made her their go-fer while they were scouring for their next move. She wasn't exactly thrilled about that, but the fact that they were still taking her on cases after she had recently pulled her "time travel crap" as her father called it, was enough. She wasn't going to push her luck. Well, not far anyways.

She walked up to the picnic bench where Dean was working, and set the tray down. Dean sat up, stretching his back from being hunched over a computer for the last half hour, and rubbed his hands together in anticipation of his morning caffeine jolt. Natalie pulled his cup out of the tray, and handed it over.

"Ah, thank you," he said, and took a long swig of the hot coffee. He smacked his lips appreciatively, and turned to his daughter. "I knew I had you for a reason."

"Why? So you could have your own personal coffee wench?" Natalie said, her smile twisting to the side as was her usual way.

Dean thought for a moment. "Uh…yup," he said matter-of-factly. Natalie snorted and rolled her eyes, which made Dean grin.

"Find anything good?" she asked as she jumped up on top of the table, pulling her own hot chocolate out of the tray. She rested her legs on the picnic bench seat next to her father. Dean didn't answer her question right away; he was just eying her cup. His eyes rolled up to her face, and she knew what he was thinking before it came out of his mouth.

"No, it's not coffee," she said with an exasperated sigh.

"When are you going to get over this aversion to one of God's greatest creations, kiddo?"

"When it doesn't taste like ground up hellhound water that's been filtered through Satan's panties."

Dean did a double take at her graphic description. He looked at his own cup for a moment, then shrugged and took another big sip before answering her earlier question.

"Yeah, I found a couple things. We'll wait to see what Sam's got," he said. His eyes traveled around the park, landing on a rather lovely woman who was walking her dog. His eyes subtly followed her till she walked towards the parking lot. As he turned his head to follow her, he caught a glimpse of Natalie, who was staring at something, rather awestruck, herself. He quickly turned his head to see what had caught her attention, and sure enough. It was one of those things that he had come to HATE. A boy around her age.

He smacked her on the leg. "Knock it off," he said, growling.

The swat woke Natalie from her teenage daydream. "Ow!" she complained, rubbing her calf.

"That didn't hurt."

"Did too."

"Stop being a wuss."

"I wasn't doing anything- what did you hit me for?"

Dean looked at her with a glance that said, _isn't it obvious?_ "You were staring at that boy over there."

"Yeah? So?" she said.

"You know the rules. You are not allowed to get married until you're thirty five, and you're not allowed to start dating until you're thirty six."

"Oh, well, shoot. I guess Random Boy across the park and I are going to have to cancel our elopement then."

"Hilarious."

"Oh, come on. What's the big deal? You were totally checking out that lady walking the dog."

Dean shifted guiltily. He didn't think she had caught that. "I was not," he mumbled.

Natalie's mouth dropped. "How come you're allowed to lie to me, but I'm not allowed to lie to you, huh?" she scoffed.

"Because I'm your father, that's why." Dean took another swallow of coffee with a self satisfied look on his face.

"Come on, Dad, do you honestly think I'm not going to filter any guy I want to date through you first? I mean, if he can stand up to the Dean Winchester gauntlet, then he's definitely the one for me," Natalie said jokingly, but sincerely.

"Well, he better be do right by you, that's all I'm saying. Otherwise, I'll make damn sure that my entire arsenal is locked and loaded the next time he pulls into the driveway," Dean said. Natalie couldn't help but giggle at the mental image of her father sitting on their front porch in a rocking chair, cradling a shot gun, just waiting for whatever poor sap she would be bringing home. Dean's grin widened- he loved making his daughter laugh. Just then, Sam came trotting up to them, a couple newspapers in his hands. Natalie plucked his cup from the carrier and handed it to him.

"Thank, Coffee Wench," he teased, tossing the papers down onto the table and taking the cup from her. Natalie pursed her lips in amusement.

"I got them to put an extra shot of spit in yours. You're welcome," she said sassily. Sam just chuckled, and turned his attention to his brother.

"What did you find?" he asked.

Dean gestured to the laptop. "Couple interesting things- the most likely one is in Trinidad, Colorado. A man was found dead, inside his apartment. All the locks were still on the door, no sign of forced entry, nothing. Just a dead body."

"Why do you think that has anything to us?" Natalie said.

Dean smirked. "Because the guy was burned alive. From the inside."

"Of his apartment?"

"Of his body."

Natalie shook her head, making a disgusted sound. Sam took a deep breath. "Yeah, that sounds like us, all right," he said flatly. "Hey- you said that's the most likely one- what were some of the others?"

"There's a town in Pennsylvania where apparently everyone's left shoe keeps going missing," Dean said without batting an eyelash.

Sam blinked a couple times. "I don't even know how to respond to that." Dean nodded in agreement, then gestured to the papers that Sam had put on the table.

"What about you? Find anything as good as the Left Shoe Thief?" he asked.

Sam pushed aside some of the papers, looking for the one that he had found. "Yeah, not a whole lot- I mean, there is this one case down in Tennessee where a guy swears he's being stalked by a Big Foot."

"Come on Sam, every hunter worth his salt knows that Big Foot doesn't exist," Dean said.

"Yeah, well, this guy claims to have seen something very tall and hairy attacking his car. And then, allegedly, it left a present of a dead squirrel at the guy's front door." Sam said, with barely contained sarcasm in his voice. Dean and Natalie exchanged a sideways glance. "Said Big Foot is in love with him," Sam finished.

Dean's brow furrowed. "Are you sure you're reading newspapers and not the National Enquirer?" he asked. Sam rolled his eyes.

"So what do you think?" he asked Dean. Dean shrugged, and then looked at Natalie.

"I say it's Coffee Wench's choice," he teased.

"Yeah, okay, THAT name can stop at any time," she said, teasing them back. As far as she was concerned, the choice was clear. "I say Colorado, here we come!" She jumped off the table, excited for their new adventure. "Can I drive?" she asked brightly.

Dean looked up from closing his laptop to meet her eyes. She immediately put on her best puppy dog look. Which he promptly disregarded.

"Nope."

*SPN SPN SPN*

The next day, towards late afternoon, they found themselves in the small town of Trinidad. As they were driving through, Natalie took in the sights, commenting from the backseat.

"Wow, would you look at that?" she said, looking to her right. Sam turned his head to look out the window and whistled. A beautiful, large black coal train was sitting stationary on the tracks.

"I wonder if that thing is actually still in operation," Natalie mused aloud.

Sam shook his head, squinting his eyes. "Doesn't look like it," he said. "There's a ton of fence around it- it looks like it's display only."

"Huh," Natalie said. "It looks like one of those old fashioned coal trains. So was this like a mining town or something?"

Sam shrugged. "I don't know."

"Yes, it was," Dean said. Natalie swung her head around in surprise. Her uncle was the one who usually knew boring facts, not her father.

"How do you know?" she asked. Dean pointed to a statue that was on the left side of the road. It was depicting four miners shoveling coal into a hand truck.

"Oh. Okay, yeah, that'll do it," she said. Dean just chuckled.

They found a decent motel, and dropped their stuff off. Wanting to waste no time, Dean and Natalie headed off to the apartment complex where the body had been found. Sam split off to go check out the victim at the morgue. Father and daughter were both outfitted in black suits, ready to take on the persona of the FBI. Natalie was grateful that Sam had insisted that she get something more suited for the female form when it had come time for her to start getting into the field with them. After enduring quite a few grumbled words from her father that what she was wearing was way too grown up for her, with both her and Sam arguing back that it was exactly the point of the suit, they had all mutually settled on an outfit that looked nice and feminine. She loved it- Dean tolerated it. As Dean parked the Impala at the curb near to the apartment building, he pulled the fake IDs out of his jacket pocket. Flipping open the leather covers to make sure he was handing her the right badge, he started going over their plan again.

"Alright- I am..." Dean began, looking at her for the answer.

"Agent Abrams," Natalie replied immediately. Dean nodded and continued.

"And you are?"

Agent Whedon."

"Back story."

"I'm new to the FBI, wunderkind, right out of college, which was Stanford. Third week on the job, paired with the oldest detective on the force," she teased.

"Wanna try that again?" Dean said with a touch of sternness in his voice.

"Fine. Paired with the most skilled, best looking, toughest agent that was ever to be had."

"Knock it off," Dean scolded. "This is serious. You blow your cover, and this whole thing is shot to hell. You need to focus."

"Yes, sir. Sorry," Natalie said petulantly, shifting in her seat. She knew that when it was go time, her dad didn't play around. She mentally berated herself for goofing off, especially when she knew better. Dean nodded once, accepting her apology, and continued.

"I've got point on this- you follow my lead. Remember- you're new to the FBI. You're not going to make a move without getting approval from me, got it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Let's do this."

They climbed out of the car simultaneously. This was not Natalie's first time on the field, but she was still pretty new to it, only really having been able to pass for "out of college" within the last year or so. She took a deep breath, and fell in line behind Dean. Dean stalked towards the house. Natalie watched carefully, noting his fearlessness, his aura of confidence, and the sense of "this ain't my first rodeo" that he gave off. It was all part and parcel of the whole hunter's bag- she had to be able to flawlessly imitate these government officials, otherwise, she'd never get anywhere. There was only so far being a computer whiz could take her. She wanted to know, understand, and master every aspect of the hunting life, and imitating government officials was a big part of it. Her dad was right- she needed to focus. She slipped into her character silently as they walked towards the bevy of cops surrounding the front of the building, deciding she was going to play the scrappy but sweet young rookie. She let that thought drive her body, and she began walking like she was a tough chick who meant business. She kept right behind Dean, looking around for anything that may indicate any other means of entry into the building, and observing the general area.

Dean walked up brusquely to the 3 cops that were talking together on the sidewalk right outside the building. When they took in the tall man in the dark suit, their eyes widened alarmingly. Natalie wondered to herself how often they saw government officials in their neck of the woods, and, judging by their reactions, it wasn't often. They all got more and more nervous the closer Dean got to them. Natalie actually saw the shortest one try to suck in his beer gut. Dean pulled his badge out, and Natalie followed suit.

"FBI," Dean said gruffly as an introduction. "I'm Agent Abrams, this is my partner." He gestured behind him towards Natalie, who nodded once and introduced herself.

"Agent Whedon," she said, trying to sound as no-nonsense as possible. She tucked her own fake badge back into her jacket. "We'd like to take a look around the apartment of the victim who was killed here yesterday."

"Agents," the shortest of the three cops said. "With all due respect, why is the FBI getting involved here?"

"You gotta admit, it is a strange death, Larry," said one cop with very thick glasses. "But, yeah, I didn't think that the FBI was interested in little towns like ours."

"Well, the FBI thinks that there may be more to this than just a single incident," Natalie said.

"That's right," Dean said, backing her up. "Tell me, has anything else strange happened around here recently? Any other strange deaths, weird happenings, that kind of thing?"

Nerd Glasses scratched his head. "Not that I can think of- town's pretty quiet. This kind of thing just...doesn't happen to us," he said, looking completely perplexed.

"Well, that's why we're here," Dean said, nodding at the officers. "We're going to step inside, take a look around." He turned to Natalie. "What apartment was it, Whedon?" he asked.

"5B, Sir," Natalie answered promptly. Dean nodded, keeping the smile off his face, but inwardly, he was one proud papa. She was doing great.

"Let's go," he said. They walked into the building, bypassing another two cops who were exiting. They made their way up to the second floor where the victim's apartment was. They entered the apartment to find another couple of cops. Natalie wondered if the entire Trinidad Police Department was here. Their eyes widened in surprise as the young girl in the very official looking black pant suit walked up to them, flashing a badge.

"Gentlemen," Natalie said, tucking her badge back into the inner pocket of her coat. "We're going to have to ask you to leave the premises while my partner and I take a look around."

The taller, balding cop just stared at Natalie, dumbstruck. "Aren't you a little young to be in the FBI?" he questioned patronizingly.

Natalie snorted nonchalantly. "Yeah, I get that a lot," she said, no nonsense in her voice, offering no further explanation. She patiently waited for the cops to start moving towards the door, but it seemed like they had no intention of moving for a kid.

"With all due respect, Miss," the younger, smarmy looking officer said. "We've already gone over the entire apartment- there's nothing here." He smiled patronizingly at her. Dean and Sam had both told her to expect this- due to her age; it was going to be a while before she could intimidate anyone into doing what she said just because she said it. Natalie took two seconds to offer up a prayer to Castiel to speed that date along. But in the meantime, there were other methods to achieving her goals.

"Then I'm sure it will take us no time at all. We'll be out of your hair before you know it," she said benignly, with a subtle emphasis on the word "we'll". The two cops looked at each other, shrugged, and looked at her partner, who seemed to be watching their entire exchange intently. The bald cop nodded at Dean, smacked Smarmy Cop on the arm, and they walked out of the apartment without another word, closing the door behind them.

When he was sure they were gone, Dean turned to Natalie. "Nice job, kiddo." Natalie suppressed her thrilled smile, and pulled her EMF device out of her pocket. She began scanning the room, looking for spikes on the needle. Dean started searching the tape marked area where the body had been discovered. He leaned down, but there were no scorch marks in the carpet, no ash- nothing to suggest fire or anything close to it. His eyes suddenly zeroed in on a grainy substance close to where the victim's foot had been. He reached over and picked it up, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger. Pulling it closer, he could see that it was black pebble of some kind, with some sort of greasy residue.

"Hey," he called out. "C'mere, check this out." Natalie walked over to him, and as she did, the EMF meter suddenly spiked. They both started in surprise at the sudden noise, but then Dean reached the pebble back towards the meter in Natalie's hand. The second it got closer, the needle jumped again. They met eyes.

"Yahtzee," Dean muttered.

"What is it?" Natalie said, reaching out for the rock. Dean dropped it into her hand.

"I don't know. We'll take it with us and try to identify it back at the hotel."

*SPN SPN SPN*

Sam met them at a diner a couple blocks away from the apartment building for dinner. He had been to the morgue, and, other than finding the victim roasted from the inside out, had found nothing else unusual.

"I did find this, however," he said, dropping a pamphlet on the table. Dean snatched it up. It was for a ghost town not too far from Trinidad. Natalie leaned back in her seat, trying to read over her dad's shoulder.

"Ludlow?" Dean asked. "There's an honest-to-god ghost town here?"

"Ludlow..." Natalie murmured quietly. She knew she had heard that name before, but couldn't place it. "Why does that sound familiar?" she asked, looking at Sam.

"The Ludlow Massacre?" he prompted. She closed her eyes, rolling her head back and nodding. Of course that was why it sounded familiar.

"What was the Ludlow Massacre?" Dean asked, wanting to hear the story rather than read it. Sam turned his gaze to look at his brother.

"Back in the early 1900's, Ludlow was a mining town, employing thousands of immigrant workers. The workers were treated like crap- they were forced to work insane hours, live in these run down shacks. If anybody got hurt or killed, it was written off as "neglectful diligence" on the part of the worker, and they were never compensated in any way."

Dean whistled. "Yikes. I bet their pension plan sucked," Natalie snorted, and gave him her lopsided grin. Sam continued.

"Anyways, the miners formed a Union, and they decided to strike. They were forced out of the shacks, and they lived in tents for over a year, just waiting for the Rockefellers to acknowledge their demands and treat them fairly."

"The Rockefellers?" Dean asked. "How were the Rockefellers involved?"

"They were the ones who owned the mines that the workers were supposed to be working," Natalie said. "John D. Rockefeller Jr. refused to listen to them, and sent in the US militia to break up the union and get the workers back in the mines."

"Only they decided that they were going to use brute force instead of reason and negotiation," Sam said, picking up the rest of the story. "One night, the militia started fires in the tent city, and the fires got out of control, killing dozens of people, mostly children."

"That's horrible," Dean said, shocked. He dealt with a lot of supernatural crap all the time, but the evil that could come just from humanity still astounded him on a daily basis. Especially when it came to kids. Ever since becoming a father, Dean had taken special vengeance on any case where a child was harmed or killed. He couldn't imagine the thought of losing Natalie, and was determined that no parent should have to worry about that, not if he could help it. Natalie and Sam were both nodding at his statement.

"Yeah," Natalie said, sadly. "The kids would climb into pits that were dug into the ground to protect them from the bullets..."

"Bullets?" Dean said sharply. Natalie grimaced.

"One of the ways the militia would try to control the workers was to bring Gatling guns and randomly open fire into the tent city."

"What the hell is wrong with people?"

"Beats me. Anyways, the kids got trapped in one of the pits during the fire, and they were burned to death. That's why it was called the Ludlow Massacre," she said, finishing the story.

Dean pushed back from the table, arching his back to stretch it out. "So. I guess we go check out Ghost Town tomorrow? See if there is some connection to this murder?"

Sam nodded, and tapped the brochure still in Dean's hands. "There is a guided tour in Ludlow on Thursdays- I think that's the best place to start."

"Awesome!" Natalie said, grinning. Both boys turned to look at her. "So we get to play tourist!" She rubbed her hands together delightedly. She loved going on any sort of tour, whether it be a museum or a haunted house. Sam just chuckled at her.

*SPN SPN SPN*

The next day, the three of them drove to the town square, where the bus to take them on the Ghost Town Tour picked up their participants. The three Winchesters climbed onto the bus, which already had about a dozen people on it. Natalie followed Dean, who slid into a window seat about 3 rows from the driver. Natalie scooted in next to him, leaving Sam to sit in the row behind them. They didn't say anything, just checked out the other people who wanted to take the tour. Much to Sam's chagrin, and Dean's delight, one of those people happened to be a large, booming man that looked like a linebacker, and plopped himself down next to Sam. Dean and Natalie simultaneously snorted under their breathes upon seeing the hulking man heave himself into the seat. They silently tapped fists. Anything that caused Sam to be annoyed just made their sun shine a bit brighter.

Linebacker Man started a loud, boisterous conversation that apparently Sam was expected to listen to and appreciate. "So what are you going on this tour for?" the large man asked in a booming voice that matched his physical description.

Sam cleared his throat awkwardly. "Um, well, I just...I read about this town, and all about the history behind it..."

"HA! History buff, huh?" the man blurted out, not giving Sam a chance to finish his sentence. "Don't bother listening to any of the crap that the tour guide is going to say. You stick with me, I'll tell you the REAL history of the place," the man said, the arrogant pride pinging in his voice. Natalie's brow furrowed. She leaned back against her seat, in a move that to anyone else would have been annoyance at the loudness of the man's words, but was actually trying to get closer, just to make sure that she didn't miss anything. Unlikely, due to the fact that the man seemed to want to announce his plan to the entire bus.

"Yeah- all this crap about the poor workers- it's a load of horse manure. My great great grandfather was one of the militia men that was sent to break up the riots."

Sam sat up straighter in his chair, intrigued by the man. "What riots? I thought that the workers were just striking- I never heard about any riots."

The large man gave off a loud, disrespectful laugh. "And you call yourself a history buff boy?" he asked, snorting his derision.

"Well, actually, no, that was what YOU called..."

"These crazy foreigners come in to work, and instead of working, start demanding all this garbage- I mean, they were the ones who chose to come to America in the first place. Did they think that an easy life was going to be handed to them on a silver platter?" He paused for a moment to look at Sam, expecting him to comment. Sam took a breath, even though he had no idea what to say. It was alright though- the man continued on like he had no intention of stopping for Sam at all.

"No! You work, you do the job that you were given, and you keep shut about what's bothering you!" the man hollered. Sam just closed his mouth and nodded politely at the man, who seemed to take that as an invitation to go on.

"Tell you what," he said to Sam. "You stick with me on this tour, and I'll show you the good stuff."

"Like what?" Sam asked.

"Like where they posted the Gatling guns they needed to keep these immigrants in line. I know right where they were," the man said proudly, as if knowing the location of the murder weapons was the greatest fact in the world.

"How do you know that?"

"Like I said, my great great grandfather was one of the militia men." He held out his large, beefy hand to Sam. "Jack Linderfelt, direct descendant of Karl Linderfelt."

Natalie inhaled sharply. Karl Linderfelt was not just ONE of the militia men- he had been the leader of the team, the one who gave the order to start the fires in the tent city. Her anger surged towards this man, even though the only crime this guy had committed was being related to the former riot instigator. And talking way too loud on a bus.

"Ah," Sam said. Natalie could hear in his voice that he knew who Linderfelt was too, and was trying to figure out the next subtle interrogation question. "So, if you don't mind me asking, why are you taking this tour? It seems like you know quite a bit about this area already."

"I do it and tell people what REALLY happened. I like to make sure that people know the way everything really went down," Jack said loudly, looking around the bus to see if there was anyone else who would take him up on his offer of a personally guided tour. Just then, a young man in his early twenties stepped onto the bus. Natalie's attention immediately shifted to the boy- he was rather cute. A shock of light blond hair, and deep set blue eyes accompanied a very striking face. She felt the corners of her mouth pull up, just as she felt her father tense next to her. She didn't care- it was free to window shop, right?

"Good afternoon, everybody!" the young man said in a bright voice. There was a mumbled chorus of "good afternoon"s from the tourists.

"Hi," Natalie said, a coy smile on her face. Dean rolled his eyes, and didn't catch the young man looking at Natalie. The boy's eyes widened at the sight of her for a second, before he went back to his business.

"I'm your tour guide today. My name is Lucas," the young man began. He started into his schpiel about the tour, and the town of Ludlow, as the bus driver pulled away from the curb. Natalie leaned forward, grinning from ear to ear. Dean knocked his leg against hers.

"What?" she hissed at him, not wanting to take her eyes off the very attractive tour guide.

Dean just glared at her.

*SPN SPN SPN*

They had finally arrived at Ludlow, and Lucas was taking the group around the town. Jack had slapped Sam on the back, dragging him off on his own tour. Sam had capitulated, knowing that Jack may actually know something useful about this town. Natalie had been slowly creeping up towards where Lucas was leading. She was being subtle about it- Dean often didn't notice how close she was until she was right behind him. He then would put a finger in the back of the collar of the shirt she was wearing, and drag her back towards him. After the third time, he yanked her back harder than normal, causing her to stumble. He grabbed her so she wouldn't fall.

"Would you get a grip?" he hissed in her ear. She turned to him slowly, with an incredulous look on her face.

"I am just appreciating a thing of beauty," she said with a smarmy look on her face. Dean gave her a warning look that she hadn't gotten since she was a kid. She gulped, the look having the same effect on her now as it had then. She fell in line beside Dean, and she could feel him relax a bit. She really didn't understand why he was getting so uptight- she had watched him put the moves on any number of women over the years. The double standard here was total crap.

Lucas had stopped the group, and turned around. His eyes, to Dean's intense fury, sought Natalie's, and he smiled when he saw her looking at him.

"That's it for the guided part of the tour. Feel free to look around and explore the buildings for the next half hour. Please remember to watch your children, and do not go into any properties that have been roped off with the black and yellow caution tape. I'll be around to answer any questions. Thank you!" The folks on the tour politely applauded him- he really had done an excellent job. He had been able to answer any question without hesitation, and seemed confident in his delivery. Natalie thought that was fantastic. Dean thought he was an arrogant asshole. Dean turned to Natalie now, glad that she no longer had any reason to ogle the boy.

"Alright, you go find Sam, I'm going to try to chat up..." Dean took a breath, and made a conscious effort to pronounce the kid's name instead of the name he was calling him in his head. "... _Lucas..._ to see what else he knows." Natalie nodded, then turned her head. Right as she did that, Lucas looked at her. When they locked eyes, he quickly winked and smiled. She flushed, and turned back to Dean.

"Actually, I think I may have a better time doing that than you, for once," she said. She sauntered away towards the young man. Dean's jaw dropped watching her walk away from him, but Natalie didn't notice.

"Hey, um...Lucas?" she said, approaching him shyly. He turned and flashed his baby blues at her charmingly.

"Hi," he said, in a slightly sultry voice. "What's your name?"

"I'm Natalie," she said, praying that she didn't sound as dorky as she felt. "I was wondering- could you show me some of the other areas around here? Like where the tent city was, and stuff like that?" She knew from watching Dean put the moves on a chick that it wasn't always about having the perfect pick up line. Besides, she was here to work- it was just to her advantage that Lucas seemed to know a lot of information, and seemed to take an interest in her. And she was right.

"Absolutely. I'm glad to know someone was actually paying attention to what I said back there," he said in a joking manner. She giggled in response, and they began to walk away. She turned quickly to look at Dean, flashing him a triumphant _See?_ look. To her surprise, he had the strangest look on his face, as if he was actually frozen, just staring at her. She couldn't tell if he was angry, or proud that she was right, or what. She dismissed it and began walking away with Lucas.

He led her to the area where the tent city had been located, telling her facts the entire way, most of which she already knew. She looked at some of the roped off shacks.

"Looks like they're doing some construction here," Natalie commented, gesturing to the pile of tools that had been left inside one of the restricted areas. "Why are they doing work on an abandoned town?

"They're trying to get this area preserved as a historical landmark," Lucas said. "It's a lot easier to do that kind of thing when there are actual buildings to show. They're being really stupid about the construction, though."

"How's that?"

Lucas pointed to a compressor that had a pneumatic nail gun at the end of the long hose attached to it. "They're using iron nails to reconstruct the buildings. It's so dumb- they'll eventually rust and fall out and then we'll be back to square one," he said, a snort of derision in his voice. They kept walking away from the shacks, making small talk. When they got to the large span of field, Natalie's eyes began scanning for anything that looked like a graveyard.

"I can't believe that someone would kill innocent children without even thinking about it," she said sadly.

Lucas nodded his head. "I know. And that jackass, Linderfeld, 'scuse my language, he comes on the tour every week, talking about how his great great grandfather always gets the blame, but he was just doing his job, blah blah blah. Who's job was it to kill all those people?" Lucas said angrily. Natalie reached out a hand, and placed it on his arm.

"That's gotta suck," she said sympathetically. "Having to deal with someone like that who just doesn't understand what really happened, and who doesn't respect the sanctity of the place." Lucas's eyes traveled down to where her hand was touching his arm, and he seemed to inhale slowly. She quietly withdrew her hand, seeing the effect it was having on him, and pressed her advantage.

"Are the victims buried here?" she said softly.

After taking a moment to clear his brain, Lucas swallowed hard before answering. "No. They were all burned alive, you know? No bodies to bury, nothing but ash."

Natalie gritted her teeth. Maybe it wasn't the victims of Ludlow who had attacked the guy in his apartment- cremation usually kept a spirit from being attached to Earth.

"How many people died here?" she asked.

"It was between 19 to 25," Lucas answered. "From the workers, anyways. The militia lost four men."

Natalie nodded- maybe it was one of the militia men seeking revenge, trying to account for their actions? But why kill more people then? She was still searching to put the puzzle pieces together, when Lucas spoke up again, stopping her from walking, and pointed to an indentation in the ground.

"See that? Right there?" he said. She nodded. "That's the pit where most of the damage was done."

"What do you mean?" she said.

"That's where the greatest loss of life occurred. When the soldiers set fire to the tents, the women and children would crawl into these pits that they dug for themselves. That pit held two women and eleven children. They were all burned to death, right there, in that spot."

"Oh my God," Natalie breathed, her hand flying up to her mouth. She allowed herself a moment of sorrow for the victims before clamping down on that feeling. Dean had always been very strict about not letting your emotions rule your intellect, especially when you were on a case. Just then, a ringing noise sounded in Lucas's pocket. He smiled, pulled out his phone, and turned the alarm off.

"Time's up," he said. "Have to get back on the bus." Natalie nodded, and they began walking towards the bus in silence. Natalie could see her father from a distance, his back to her, just standing still. Before they got too close, Lucas suddenly blurted out, "Hey- can I have your number?"

Natalie did a double take- it was the first time a boy had asked for her number, _ever._ She really didn't think that Lucas was that into her, but damn, it felt nice. She pulled out her phone.

"Give me yours and I'll text it to you," she said coyly. He blurted his out so fast, she had to ask him to repeat it. She promptly sent him a text with a little smiley face. His face lit up when he heard his phone ping with her message.

"So...um, I'll see you around," he said.

"Yes. On the bus," she said with a perfectly straight face.

"Yeah! Of course," he said, chuckling. He darted off towards the bus, while Natalie, still grinning, made her way over to Dean.

"Hey Dad," she said casually. When he didn't respond, she turned to him. He was resolutely not looking at her, his jaw locked in place.

"You okay?" she said, not really sure what was going on. Instead of speaking, he grabbed her upper arm and led her onto the bus. She was surprised at his sudden angry movements. Sure, she knew he didn't like her talking to boys, but for heaven's sake, she was seventeen, doing what all teenagers do. When they climbed back onto the bus, Dean shoved her in the seat first towards the window, and sat down next to her, still not speaking. Natalie decided just to wait his tantrum out. If he didn't want to talk, that was okay. He'd calm down and get back to business soon enough. She watched as Sam and Jack climbed onto the bus. Sam caught her eyes and rolled his own, explaining the afternoon he had just had with a single look. She shot him a sympathetic smile as they passed her and Dean. The bus ride back was filled with chatter from the other tourists, but Dean still wasn't speaking. Natalie finally pulled out her phone and started looking at the Wikipedia entry on Ludlow, searching for anything that may be relevant to the case.

When they finally pulled back into Trinidad, Dean wasted no time in yanking Natalie back up, and practically shoving her out the bus door, not even waiting for Sam. She turned her head briefly to smile at Lucas, who waved in response. Her feet slowed for a moment.

"Keep walking," Dean growled, the first words he'd said to her since leaving Ludlow. She obediently trotted beside him as he pulled her towards the Impala. He let go of her arm just as she reached her door. He stomped around to his side, pulling his door open. Natalie slid into her seat, waiting to tell him all about the other facts that she had learned while out with Lucas. But before she could even take a breath, Dean slammed the car door and said, "You're off the case."

Natalie blinked twice, completely thrown. What the hell did he just say?


	13. Children No Longer Part 2

**Hey beautiful SPN family! Happy Monday to you! Boy does that sound like an oxymoron.**

 **Huge major thanks to all of you for the follows, favorites, and the reviews! Guys- you make me feel so awesome. I appreciate you all so much. Your reviews are chocolates from Heaven. If I could, I would hug every single one of you, so here's a virtual hug for you! *HUG!***

 **Major shout out to my Sammy- Jenmm31. She's given me the best notes, support, and encouragement that I could have possibly asked for. All while being an amazing storyteller herself. Seriously, if you've been reading my stuff but haven't checked hers out yet, stop reading this right now, go check out her stories, and then come back. I'll wait.**

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 **Alright, y'all, you know the drill. Read, review, and Enjoy!**

 **A/N- This is part 2 of a 3 part story. If you haven't already, please read the previous chapter, otherwise this ain't gonna make a lick of sense. The background of this case is a true story. Please read A/N in previous chapter. In this story, Natalie is 17. Please see profile for disclaimer.**

 **Children No Longer Part 2**

Natalie was completely still- totally shocked by her father's declaration.

"I'm...off the case?" she asked haltingly, as if she couldn't be sure what she just heard. Dean didn't say anything, just continued staring straight forward out of the windshield.

"What do you mean, I'm off the case?" she asked again, this time a little louder.

"Did I stutter? I mean, you're off the case," Dean replied nastily. His tone immediately set off Natalie's defenses. She could literally feel her hackles rising.

"What the hell?" she barked back.

"Watch your mouth," Dean warned.

"You drag me off the bus, throw me into the car, tell me I'm off the case, and expect me to be silent about it?" Natalie said, her volume getting much louder than was safe around an angry Dean Winchester.

"You disobeyed a direct order while in the field."

"What?!"

"I told you to go find Sam. Instead, you completely defied me, went off in your own direction, doing your own thing. You know I'm always the lead on a case, and you still chose not to follow orders. So, yeah, you're off."

"How the hell was that an order?!"

Dean's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Natalie..." he said with a growl.

"This was just a research mission! I was doing research!" she retorted.

"No, you were chasing after that little blonde shit face..."

"NO, I was using him to get information! He obviously was interested in me, so I used that to my advantage!"

"Right. That's _exactly_ what you were doing," Dean spat sarcastically.

Natalie threw up her hands, exasperated. "Yes, that's _exactly_ what I was doing! I know we have a job to do- I was trying to see what else I could get out of Lucas about the massacre. He obviously knows the place like the back of his hand..."

"I can only imagine the places he showed you," Dean grumbled.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Natalie shot back. Dean twisted in the driver's seat to look at her, schooling his features to be calm.

"It means that while you were supposed to be working, you threw all that aside to go hang out with some asshole that you thought was cute." Dean turned back around, his stoic demeanor planted on his face, masking the anger. "You know better than that. And until you learn to do exactly what I tell you at all times when you're on a job, you're off the case." Dean looked out the window to see if Sam was coming, as if he had no cares in the world at all. After a moment of stunned silence, Natalie said the only thing she could think of.

"That is fucking ridiculous," she said derisively. Dean's calm act instantly fell away.

"Listen up. If I have to tell you to watch your mouth one more time, you're gonna regret it. Got me?" he snarled.

Natalie took a deep breath, willing herself to calm down. "Dad, listen. Lucas was checking me out from the moment he stepped on the bus. So I noticed it. You're the one who's taught me to notice all my surroundings and use them to my advantage."

"Oh, so it's my fault you can't obey orders?"

"I'm not saying that- and I still don't know what orders you're talking about! I was under the impression that we were just there to get as much information as we could. We're not acting out parts right now, we're just people doing research! And I knew that I could get farther with Lucas than either you or Uncle Sam could, because I saw that he was interested in me! I saw my advantage, and I took it! And I learned some pretty useful stuff, too," she said, hoping the last part would intrigue her father enough to let go of whatever issue he was having with this entire stupid argument.

"Doesn't matter."

"Doesn't matter?!"

"Nope. How many times have I told you to stay focused when you're on a job? How many?"

"I was focused! I noticed that Lucas was more likely to give me information than you. It's you who lost focus! You didn't even notice that!"

"Believe me, I noticed. And that's why I told you to go find Sam, so your little teenage soap opera wouldn't interfere with the case."

"It didn't!"

"I'll be the judge of that."

"How? You're clearly not seeing the entire picture here because you can't accept the fact that I picked up on something that you didn't."

Dean turned around and pointed a finger in her face. "No more. You're off the case. End of discussion." Just then, Sam approached the car and opened up the door.

"Hey guys," he said casually, sliding into the passenger's seat, completely oblivious to the thick tension permeating the car. "What's up?"

*SPN SPN SPN*

By the time they got back to the motel, Sam was regretting asking what was up. Natalie had only been too happy to spout her side of the story since Sam had given her the opening, while Dean kept his usual stoic demeanor, simply saying that she wasn't following orders and was no longer allowed on the field. Sam was trying to get the facts of what happened instead of the individual biases that they were both under. To him, it seemed like Natalie was right to try to use her best chance to get information, but Dean was also right, in that she should be doing what he told her to do. They continued round and round, the argument going on way longer than it should have, mostly because the more Dean shut down, the angrier Natalie got, which caused him to shut down even more. By the time they pulled into the parking lot, Natalie didn't even wait for Dean to put the car in park before she threw open the door to the Impala, and practically kicked the motel room door down. Sam heard Dean exhale with a growl, watching her stalk into their room. Sam knew from years of dealing with his brother that Natalie was skating on thin ice, and she'd better be careful. Sam jumped out of the car to try to smooth things over between father and daughter before the three of them were trapped together in a tiny room and the shit really started flying.

When he walked into the room, Natalie had already planted herself firmly in front of the TV, and had turned the volume up so loud that you could barely hear yourself think. Sam walked in quickly before Dean could, and pulled the remote out of her hand. He turned the volume down, but before he could say anything, she whipped around angrily and turned on him as well.

"Okay, so should I consider you taking away the remote a direct order too? You know, since nothing around here seems to make sense anymore."

"That's enough," Dean thundered, coming into the room. Sam sighed- he had hoped to stem off this little tantrum before Dean lost his cool completely, but he was too late. Dean pointed at Natalie again. "Ten laps, around the block, now. And loose the attitude while you're out there." Natalie's mouth opened, but Dean cut her off before she could speak.

"You say one more thing, and I swear I'll make it thirty," he threatened. She turned her head and caught Sam's eye, begging him to take her side. Sam took a deep breath.

"You really do need to go cool off," he said quietly. Without another word, she stood up and snatched her duffle bag, stomping into the bathroom and slamming the door behind her. Sam's gaze slid to Dean, who was standing firmly by the door to the room, and seemed unlikely to ever uncross his arms again- they were so tightly entwined over his chest. Sam slipped over to his own bed and sat down. Dean just stared daggers at the bathroom door. Finally, the door burst open, and Natalie emerged wearing her running clothes. Without a word, she stalked past Dean, making sure she slammed the front door again on her way out. Sam watched as Dean slowly closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He then stalked over towards the small table in the room, and pulled his laptop towards him. He booted it up, tapping his fingers impatiently on the table as he waited. Sam knew that Dean was just trying to get a hold of himself and probably didn't want to talk right now, but Sam also knew that he would probably not get another opportunity like this to try to get his brother off the ledge.

"Dean," Sam began softly. Dean didn't answer, didn't even look at him. "You know you're blowing this out of proportion."

"Don't start with me, Sam."

"Look, I understand that you're mad that she didn't do what you told her to. But it sounds like she's got a valid point, too."

"I'm not interested in her 'valid point'."

"Clearly. Why are you making this such a big deal?"

Dean's fingers stopped drumming on the table. He turned to Sam with an astounded look. "Are you freaking kidding me? Why am I making this such a big deal? Oh, gee, I don't know. Do you think it's because if she doesn't listen to me on the little shit that we have to do, how the hell do I know she's going to listen to me on the big shit? When we're on a job, and it's a life or death call, and she just up and decides to do whatever she freaking feels like?" Dean turned back to his laptop, which had finally booted up. He began madly typing. "Unbelievable," he muttered mockingly under his breath.

Sam sat up, determined to get to the bottom of this. "Do you honestly think that Natalie doesn't know that? When has she ever not listened to you?"

Dean spun around in his chair. If Sam really wanted to open this can of worms, he was game. Besides, he was dying to take his anger out on something. "Going back in time. Fighting Yellow Eye's brother. Hunting that poltergeist on the farm."

"First off, that last one was when she was fourteen."

"That was only three years ago."

"A lot can change in three years! And if you remember correctly, it was you getting pissed off and not listening to HER that drove her to go do that!"

"Great. So now you think this is all my fault too."

"No, that's not what I'm saying at all-"

"That's exactly what you're saying. You think that just because she gets these crazy ideas into her head, that she somehow knows more than I do, that I should just let her go off skipping to meet whatever it is that's out there, is that it?"

"Dean, you are too close to the situation here."

"She's my kid- how the hell am I not supposed to be close?"

"What I'm saying is that sometimes, she's right."

"And I'm wrong."

"Yes! You don't see things clearly when it comes to her. When we fought Azazel's brother in the past, she followed your directions flawlessly, until she figured out to how kill the demon. Then, and ONLY then, she disobeyed you because she knew how to end the fight when you didn't. And this thing now- this issue that you're having with the boy today- that's just you getting upset that she's interested in guys, now."

"That has nothing to do with this, Sam."

"It has everything to do with this. If Lucas was gay, and checking me out, you would have made me use that to my advantage to get more information out of him. You know you would have!"

"Naw. I would have done it myself. I'm way hotter than you."

Sam rolled his eyes, but plowed on. "You just don't like the fact that she's growing up- that she's eventually going to be dating."

"Of course I don't like it. It makes her lose focus."

"That's not the only reason you don't like it, and deep down, you know it. You're just using it as an excuse to keep her away from the boy." Sam leaned forward, trying to drive his point home. "We need her on this one, Dean."

"You and I have done fine on our own before, we'll be fine now. Like riding a bike, Sammy- it'll come right back to us." Sam opened his mouth to speak, but Dean held up his hand, halting Sam's words. "I'm not budging on this. I'm right, she's wrong. She's not doing it. End of discussion." He went back to typing. Sam heaved a sigh, and sat down on his bed, knowing that anything else he could say would be pointless. After about an hour, Sam knew that Natalie was done running laps- the kid was incredibly fast- but she wasn't back yet. He stood up and walked over to the window, pulling the drapes away. Sure enough, she was sitting at the end of the parking lot, Indian style, in a little grassy section of lawn, with her back to the room. Sam picked up a bottle of water from the cooler that was stashed up against the wall, quietly walked to the door, and opened it. He turned briefly to look at Dean. Dean was still resolutely ignoring him, so he slipped out the door, carefully shutting it behind him.

He made his way towards where his niece was sitting on the sparse lawn. As he approached, she made no sign that she could hear him. He walked right next to her, stopping beside her. He held out the water bottle to her. She finally moved, reaching up her hand to grab it.

"Thanks," she said begrudgingly.

"Do you mind if I sit down?" he asked gently.

"It's a free country." Sam took another deep breath. Dealing with Natalie was like dealing with a miniature female Dean. He mentally steeled himself for round two.

"You okay?" he questioned. She shrugged, but didn't say anything, continuing to stare at the traffic on the road.

"You pissed at me, too?" he said, already knowing the answer. Natalie just twisted her head and looked away from him so he was no longer in her periphery. He bobbed his eyebrows once at her gesture.

"Look, I know you're ticked that I sided with him, but that was only on the running. You were headed for seriously dangerous ground, and you know it. You're lucky you got off with just laps." Natalie sighed angrily, and twisted the cap off the water bottle. She chugged for a second, then wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Sam smirked to himself- she looked just like Dean after a swig of beer when she did that.

"I know. He just made me so angry that I couldn't even think straight." She turned her head to look at Sam. "Sorry for being a jerk to you."

Sam shrugged and grinned. "You're your father's daughter. You're automatically a jerk," he said in a teasing tone. Despite herself, Natalie had to grin back on that one. She took another swallow of water before speaking again.

"You know I wasn't doing it just because I thought Lucas was cute, right?"

"Yeah, I know that."

"I can't believe that he thinks that I would jeopardize a case just because of a pretty face. I mean, for fuck's sake, who does he think I am- _him?"_

"Low blow, kid."

"Well, that's why I'm saying it out here where he can't hear me."

"Look, Bug, here's the thing. I know he's gone off the deep end on this one. You saw an opportunity, you took it. I would have done the same thing. But you should have communicated that to him before you just changed the plan midstream."

"We didn't have a plan! We were just getting information!"

"He told you what he wanted you to do- you should have explained to him why you wanted to take an alternate route."

"Gotcha. So we should have stopped, had ourselves a nice Oprah moment where he would have flipped out over me even talking to a guy, wasting my time and my window of opportunity, and then we wouldn't have learned anything else useful or valuable. Good plan."

Sam rolled his eyes- he suddenly realized that between her and Dean's perpetual smart ass comments, his eyes really got a workout. "He doesn't do well with people not listening to him. You of all people know that."

"As 'point' on the job, he should have noticed all the opportunities that we had to learn all about the town and anything that could have been relevant to the job. Just because he didn't notice my advantage is not a reason to take me off a job." She turned her head, looking Sam dead in the eye. "I'm not budging on this one. I'm right, and he's wrong." She took another long draught of water, effectively shutting down the conversation. Sam sighed- the two of them were too much alike for their own good. He offered no more; just sat in silence with her while she finished off her bottle of water. Natalie smashed the plastic container between her hands, enjoying the crunching sound. When she couldn't stall any longer, she sighed and stood up. Sam looked up at her.

"You ready to go back inside?" he asked.

"Nope," she said. "But I don't think there's much of a choice." She waited until he stood up, and then they walked back towards the room. Sam noticed her dragging her feet until she was behind him. He knew it was because she didn't want to look at Dean right now, and if she was behind Sam's back, then that moment would be delayed, if only slightly. He opened the door and walked in, moving to the side so she could enter, and closed the door behind her. Dean was still at the laptop, completely absorbed, pretending not to notice either one of them. Natalie shrugged, and headed into the bathroom. They heard the shower start up. Once the running water blocked any sound coming from the room, Dean spoke to Sam without turning his head.

"She ready to see reason?" he asked gruffly.

"Are you?" Sam retorted. Dean shot him a glare, and resumed looking at the computer, dropping back into silence. After about five minutes of no one saying anything, Dean suddenly spoke up.

"So this ghost town," Dean began, refusing to acknowledge Sam's previous words. "I'm thinking that it's a spirit who attacked and killed Crispy-On-The-Inside."

Sam thought about it, and nodded. "Makes sense. But there were tons of people killed in the massacre- how are we going to narrow down which one it is that's causing all the trouble?"

Dean shook his head. "No idea. I guess we start at the top of the list and work our way through." He twisted the laptop towards Sam. "Found a list of the murdered people- you and I can go into town to the library and look for burial records."

"No point in that," Natalie said, emerging from the bathroom, drying her wet hair with a towel. Both Dean and Sam looked up. She was making a point to look at Sam, and pretending that Dean wasn't in the room.

"Why not?" Sam asked.

"Because no one was buried. They were all burned to death, so essentially, cremated." She cocked her head to the side, and put on a patronizing smile. "That's what Lucas told me when I was getting information from him." Dean licked his front teeth and made an annoyed clicking noise upon hearing her words. She just smiled wider, and flounced back into the bathroom to hang the towel up.

"Oh, and Uncle Sam?" she called out in a sweet voice. Sam braced himself- he knew that tone from her. She was on the warpath. She walked back into the room, putting a little extra bounce in her step.

"Yes?" he said cautiously.

"If Dad decides he would like to speak to me, can you please tell him to direct it to you, and will you then share it with me, because I'm not speaking to him either?" she said, the saccharine dripping from her voice. "Tell him, please," she said, looking expectantly at Sam. His mouth dropped open- surely she was joking. There was no way she was going to be this childish about the whole situation. Before he could say anything, however, Dean spoke up.

"Sam, will you please tell my daughter that until she stops acting like a reckless brat, I will be addressing comments to you as well?" Dean swiveled his head towards Sam, his tone matching Natalie's. Sam looked back and forth between the two of them, who seemed to be staring at him, waiting for him to deliver their individual messages. He couldn't believe what the hell was happening.

"NO!" he finally yelled. "I am not going to be the messenger between the two of you while you're at each other's throats! You two need to talk this out!" Both Dean and Natalie turned away from Sam, perfectly in sync, and shrugged at the same time.

"I'm fine with silence," they both said in tandem, then stopped. Sam watched with detached humor as they both registered that, once again, they were speaking the exact same thing, at the exact same time, then both shook it off and resumed what they considered to be dignified silence.

"Oh, good lord," Sam muttered under his breath. He turned to Natalie. "Dean and I are going to the library in town to see what else we can find out about Ludlow, see if we can figure something out. You stay here and analyze that rock that you two found yesterday at the victim's apartment."

"Will do," Natalie said without hesitation.

"Oh, look who can follow orders now," Dean said under his breath, but definitely loud enough for the both of them to hear. Sam watched as Natalie bit her lip to keep her smart aleck retort in, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Dean stood up, grabbed his car keys from his bed, and put on his jacket, all without looking at Natalie. "Let's go," he barked at Sam. They both moved towards the door. Just as Dean was reaching for the doorknob, he stopped. Without turning around he said, "Password?"

"Slash is a rock god," Natalie replied, no emotion in her voice, also not looking at him. Dean nodded once.

"You know the drill."

"Yes, sir." Still not turning around, Dean walked out, then turned to let Sam pass. He shut the door behind him, and waited until he heard the lock click before heading to the Impala.

*SPN SPN SPN*

About two hours later, around nine o clock, Sam and Dean pulled back into the motel lot. Dean had time to cool off at the library, and was hoping that Natalie had cooled off too. He gave the rhythmic code knock on the motel door, and heard Natalie say, "Password?"

"Slash is a rock god." The lock clicked, and the door swung open. She stepped away almost immediately, but Dean still took it as a good sign that she had at least opened the door instead of just unlocking it. He could see that she had been sitting at the table in the room, all kinds of equipment strewn over it. She resumed her seat, and picked up the small pebble they had found.

"I figured out what the rock is," she said with no preamble. Dean's eyebrows went up, and he turned to Sam.

"Yeah?" Sam said, shrugging off his tan jacket. "What is it?"

Natalie smirked. "To be honest, it's kind of a 'duh'," she said, looking at Sam first, and then looking cautiously at Dean.

"What do you mean, a 'duh'?" Dean asked, no trace of anger or sarcasm in his voice. Natalie felt a tiny part of her brain sag with relief.

"It's coal," she said. Both Sam and Dean started at the declaration.

"Coal?" asked Sam.

"Yup. From the mines."

"Why the hell is coal giving off EMF readings?" Dean asked.

Natalie shrugged. "No real idea, but I have a theory."

"Which is?"

Natalie thumped into the back of her chair. "You're not going to like it." Dean shrugged, and gestured for her to go on. "So you know how a spirit can attach itself to objects around it, even if the body is gone?"

"Yeah."

"So I think that the victims attached themselves to the coal in the camps, and that's how their spirits are lingering."

"Wait, hold on," Sam said, holding his hand up. "They can really only attach themselves to something that they are connected to in life- how could they be connected to coal? They couldn't possibly have been so attached to rocks in life, not enough for a spirit to cling on to."

Natalie nodded. "And that's where this gets sticky. First off though, the mining strike was the reason they lost their lives in the first place. I'd say that's pretty good reason to get attached to an object. But if it was just one victim, I would say that you're right- that there's no possible way that one spirit can attach itself to a chunk of coal. However, there were multiple victims. And..." she said, with a furtive glance at Dean. "Lucas told me about the greatest loss of life during the big fire."

"And that was?" Dean said, struggling to keep his voice cool at the mention of the boy's name.

"One pit that trapped two women, and eleven children," she said, letting the clue dangle in the air. Dean rolled his eyes, the fact instantly hitting his brain.

"Thirteen people," he said flatly.

"Lucky number thirteen," she agreed. "Thirteen has always been a cursed number, and with exactly thirteen people in the group..."

"The strength of their combined spirits latched onto the closest thing they could- the coal."

"Which means we're not dealing with one ghost here."

"We're dealing with thirteen."

All three Winchesters took a moment to absorb the stunning fact. Thirteen ghosts- that was a lot. An awful lot. Suddenly, in the silence, Natalie's phone buzzed, causing them all to jump slightly. She picked it up to look at the text message.

"Oh crap," she said.

"What?" Dean asked.

"It's from Lucas."

"He has your number?" Dean growled, unable to keep the cool in his tone. Natalie gazed impassively at him for a long moment.

"Uh-huh," she said, looking him right in the eye. Dean ground his teeth together.

"What did he say?" he asked, iron in his voice.

Natalie sighed. "There's been another murder."


	14. Children No Longer Part 3

**Hello to my beautiful SPN Family, and Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, or whatever else you're celebrating, HAPPY HAPPY! I know I sound like a broken record, but y'all- the messages, reviews, favorites and follows are a blessing to me. I thank and love each and every one of you from the bottom of my heart. You all mean the world to me, and I will be forever grateful. I try to respond to every review, so if I missed you, I sincerely apologize. Sometimes it takes me a while to respond, but please know that even if I don't do it right away, you've touched my heart. And to all the guests who I can't respond to, I love you all too! To answer a question I got- I try to publish once every 2 weeks. Sometimes more if I can, but that seems to be my average. If you all have anything you'd like to read, please PM me and let me know!**

 **Special thanks, gratitude, and pixie dust to Jenmm31- the Sam to my Dean. Girl, you know what you mean to me. I adore you!**

 **So here you go! Part 3 of Children No Longer! Please read, review, and Enjoy! HAPPY HOLIDAYS!**

 **A/N- this is part 3 of a case story. If you haven't, please go read the two previous chapters, otherwise this ain't gonna make a lick of sense. In this story, Natalie is 17. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

Natalie's lips pursed as she scrolled through Lucas's text. "You're never gonna guess who it was," she said bitterly.

"Jack," Sam said simply. Dean closed his eyes and nodded. Natalie looked at him in shock.

"How in the world did you know that?" she asked, startled.

Sam gestured to Dean. "Remember that he was related to Karl Linderfelt?" Natalie nodded in response. "Well, when we went to the library, we started looking up information on the first victim. Turns out he was related to Karl Linderfelt. It was a distant relation, but it was still there." Sam hung his head for a moment, then looked over at Dean. "Whatever woke up these ghosts, they're starting to move fast. We have to end this, right now, before anyone else dies."

"You said it," Dean said. "So how are we gonna do that? Everybody's already ash- there's nothing to burn."

"And we can't torch the coal that their spirits are attached to..." Sam said, trailing off.

Dean nodded his assent. "All the coal in a mining town? All we'd leave is a grease stain on a map."

"Hang on a second," Sam said, having a sudden thought. He pulled their dad's old journal off the nightstand next to his bed, and began flipping through it, eventually finding the page he was looking for. "Yes," he murmured quietly to himself. "I think that'll work." He continued to read through the page, oblivious to the fact that Dean and Natalie were waiting to hear the plan.

"Care to enlighten us?" Dean finally barked. Sam looked up in surprise.

"Oh- yeah. Yeah. Sorry, got caught up," he said. Dean just rolled his eyes. "It says here that if we consecrate the gravesite, that can keep souls from being trapped on Earth. All we have to do is find the pit where they were burned, and turn it into Holy Ground."

Dean nodded. "Alright then. Let's do it." He walked confidently over to his bed, where the duffle bag full of supernatural supplies was. He began pulling out their iron weapons.

Sam held up his hands. "Hang on a second, Dean. It's not going to be that easy."

Dean didn't look up; he was examining the blade of an iron machete. "Why not?" he causally threw at Sam.

Sam rolled his eyes. "For one thing, we don't know where the pit is. And once we do find it, there's going to be thirteen ghosts on our asses, trying to stop us."

Dean stood up, and looked Sam square in the eye. "Your point?" he said flatly.

Sam sighed, annoyed. "My point is that we need backup," he said, and looked pointedly at Natalie. Dean's eyes slid over to her. She had suddenly gone stock still, just waiting to hear what was going to come out of his mouth.

"Not gonna happen."

Natalie's shoulders slumped in defeat at Dean's words, but Sam wasn't done. He walked over to the other side of Dean's bed so he could look his brother in the face. Dean was once again resolutely ignoring him, digging for the tire iron he knew was in there.

"Dean, come on, man. You know that we need her on this."

"Too bad. She's not getting back into the action until she can learn to follow orders."

"So you want us to walk into an entire hoard of angry spirits and try to send them to the afterlife with only the two of us just because you're being stubborn?"

"We've faced worse before."

"Like what?"

Dean paused for a second. Damn his brain, nothing was coming to mind. "We...just have, alright?!" he finished, trying to make it sound a lot more authoritative than it felt.

"Think about this for a second. One of us is going to have to consecrate the ground, and the other is going to have to fight off thirteen ghosts. Single handedly."

Dean didn't answer, he just stood up taller and stared blankly at Sam. "Fine. You do your holy mumbo jumbo, I'll gank the ghosts."

He heard Natalie gasp sharply at his words, but he didn't acknowledge it. Sam shook his head in disbelief.

"There's no way that's gonna work. The odds are completely against you if you do that," Sam argued.

"Sammy, when are the odds ever not completely against me?" Dean spat back.

Natalie pushed her chair away from the table, and walked straight up to Dean, all anger and bitterness pushed to the side due to the current situation. "Dad, you can't." Dean's eyebrows shot up into his hairline, and he looked at Natalie impassively. She knew him way too well- he was feeling anything but "impassive" at her choice of words. She gulped. "I'm sorry, sir, I mean- you shouldn't. Please. Look- okay, I'll admit it. I should have told you what I was doing when I went off with Lucas. You're right- you told me to do something, and I should have told you why I did what I did. And I'm sorry." She stopped and looked expectantly at her father.

Dean clenched his back teeth, but answered calmly. "Good."

Natalie shifted her weight uncomfortably for a moment. She had half expected him to apologize for going ape shit on her over a boy, but now realized how completely unrealistic that hope was. She inhaled quickly, stifling her emotions, and moved on. "But please don't go into the field shorthanded just because I screwed up. Uncle Sam's right- you need as much back up as you can get on this one. I swear, I'll do everything you tell me to do- I won't move a muscle unless you give me the go. Just...please don't...please don't put yourself in danger like this." Dean opened his mouth, about to retort that what they did all the time was dangerous-this was no different, but Natalie cut him off. "Not like this," Natalie pleaded, all the tension and emotion of the day deflating her. It was as if she read his mind, and was referring to him being in danger because of her actions. If he got hurt, she would feel it was her fault.

Dean looked into her eyes. He saw the briefest flash of pain go through them, and dammit- his heart twisted. He couldn't stand to see her suffering, no matter how mad he was. His eyes once again sought Sam's face. Sam was just looking at him expectantly. Deep down, in that place he very rarely even acknowledged, let alone listened to, he knew they were both right. But the Winchester stubbornness gene was fighting like hell against that feeling. All of the sudden, a terrible image popped into his mind, unbidden. He imagined Sam coming back to the motel room without him, and having to tell Natalie that he was...Dean shook his head to clear the thought. His gaze moved back to his daughter. He regarded her for a long moment.

"Fine. You can consecrate the ground, Sam and I will hold off the spirits," he said, quietly but firmly. He expected her face to light up with joy at his words, but her eyes widened slightly and began darting around the room. Dean was surprised, in spite of everything else. His eyes narrowed, wondering what she was up to. He recognized the gesture from her, but couldn't place what it meant- he hadn't seen her shift guiltily like this in a while.

"Um...well...why can't I fight with you, and Uncle Sam can do the Holy Ground stuff?" she asked in what she thought was a light-hearted voice, but was laced with tension. Sam's face settled into bitch mode, and he crossed his arms, glaring at his niece. Dean looked quickly back and forth between the two of them- something was clearly up, but he had no idea what. He latched onto the closest thing he could find first, trying to get answers.

"You just told me that you were going to do exactly what I told you. You've not been back on the job for five seconds, and you're already second guessing me?" he growled, his blood pressure rising. Natalie quickly held up her hands and began backtracking.

"No! No sir. I just...I just thought that since Uncle Sam is better at Latin than I am, that he could actually get it done quicker, so you wouldn't have to fight the ghosts as long," she finished, trying pathetically to cover her train of logic. Dean just shook his head, annoyed.

"You're smart- you'll do fine on the Latin. Get the book," he ordered. She froze for another second, and then caught Sam's eye. He was continuing to glare at her, one eyebrow raised. They seemed to be having a silent conversation. Finally, Dean couldn't take it anymore.

"Alright! WHAT?" he bellowed, making them both jump. "What is it that you two geniuses aren't telling me?!"

Natalie shoved her hands in her jean pockets, and started looking around the room, anywhere but right at Dean.

Sam finally broke the silence. "You want to tell him, or should I?" he said sternly to his niece. Natalie exhaled quickly- it was obvious she didn't like either alternative.

"Somebody better start talking, right now," Dean thundered, the warning reaching a dangerous level in his tone. Sam turned to Dean, his arms still tightly crossed, his bitch face still firmly planted on.

"Natalie's fallen behind in her Latin studies," he said, almost prissily. Natalie dug her foot into the carpet, her entire body tensing up. Dean suddenly realized where he knew the gesture from- it was from when she was a kid, and got caught watching cartoons and not doing her homework.

"What do you mean, 'fallen behind'?" Dean said in a low tone. "She knows every exorcism that there is by heart."

Sam nodded once, but then pressed his lips together in annoyance. "Yes. By heart. She knows the words." He turned to Natalie. "Tell him what happens when you try to read Latin that you don't know by heart," he commanded, and Dean actually saw Natalie shrink down for a moment. She stammered for a moment, still refusing to look at either one.

"Um..." she began hesitantly.

"Um?" Dean parroted, his face going even redder. She twisted her foot harder into the ground, as if that could lance the boil that was about to erupt.

"Well- I just...I mean..." She seemed to be unable to get past any monosyllabic word. Dean rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips.

"You mean to tell me that out of all the subjects you could have fallen behind in, you, a HUNTER, are behind in LATIN?" he roared. Natalie shrank into herself even smaller, and gave a half hearted shrug.

"It's really hard..." she mumbled, almost incoherently.

"Unbelievable," Dean growled angrily. He shot Sam a dirty look. "When were you going to tell me this?" he barked at his brother.

Sam threw up his hands in exasperation. "When it came up!" he answered. Dean looked at him, incredulous.

"And you thought a good time for that was when we were desperately needing a Latin incantation?!"

"What can I say? I've been kicking her ass for falling behind, but there's only so much I can do if she doesn't do the work!" Sam yelled back, then fixed Natalie with his glare again. "When's the last time you picked up your Latin book, huh?" he threw at her angrily. Dean stalked over to Sam, yanking their dad's journal out of his hands. He pointed it at his brother and then at his daughter.

"When this is over, if the ghosts don't kill you two, I will," he threatened. He thrust the book back into Sam's chest. "You do the incantation, and get it right the first time, got it?" Sam pursed his lips, but instead of saying anything, he nodded his assent. Dean rounded on Natalie.

"And you," he said. Unable to avoid looking at her father any longer, Natalie reluctantly raised her eyes from the carpet. Her gaze widened in fear as he walked towards her. "If you so much as put one hangnail out of line, I'll lock you in Bobby's panic room for a year. Got it?" he bellowed.

Natalie's face paled, but she answered firmly. "Yes sir," she said, her hands behind her back in military fashion. Dean snorted angrily, and stalked back to their weapons. Natalie quickly followed suit, eager to obey his orders, mostly because she knew that her father's threat wasn't an empty one.

*SPN SPN SPN*

A half hour later, they pulled up to the large dirt field that had once been Ludlow. The lateness of the hour had laid a blanket of mirror blue night over the dusty plain. This place was way creepier in the dark- almost like an old western where instead of getting invaded by a herd of rogue cowboys, there was a chance you'd be meeting your untimely demise at the hands of some other worldly creature. There were no construction crews present right now- it was like they too had vanished mid work. The piles of equipment and tools were still scattered about. Other than that, there were no signs that there had ever been any living presence there. It was slightly chilly tonight. Not enough to need a jacket- just enough to make you feel uncomfortable, like something was breathing on your neck.

The car ride had been a silent one, with Dean still furious at Natalie and now Sam. Both of them knew better than to speak in the presence of Angry Dean, so they had kept their mouths shut. Natalie looked out of the backseat window as her father pulled up and parked alongside one of the run down shacks. She shivered in anticipation- this was her chance to get back into her dad's good graces, and she didn't want to screw it up. She inhaled, pushing her still-hurt and angry feelings to one side, and readied herself for orders.

Dean turned the car off, and twisted in his seat to look at both Sam and Natalie. "Alright, game plan," he said. Natalie sat up straight, and set her gaze firmly on his face to show she was listening intently. Sam just continued thumbing through their dad's journal. He was still ticked at Dean yelling at him for Natalie's Latin fiasco, but Dean didn't appear to care.

"First thing we need to do is locate the pit where the bodies were found."

"Um...I already know where that is," Natalie piped up.

Sam turned in his seat, a quizzical look on his face. "How in the world do you..."

"Let me guess," Dean said loudly over Sam's unfinished question. "Your new boyfriend."

It took every ounce of willpower not to roll her eyes at her father's snarky tone. "Lucas showed me where it was, yes," she confirmed, keeping her voice even. Dean looked away.

"Of course," he muttered angrily. Natalie clenched her teeth together to keep herself from shooting off her mouth, but Sam came to her rescue.

"Seems maybe the kid was doing something right after all, huh?" he said nastily.

Dean pointed a finger in his face. "Piehole. Shut. Now." He turned back to Natalie. "Once we get there, you stay behind me, watch my back. Got it?"

"Yes sir."

"Let's move."

The three Winchesters climbed out of the car. Natalie began walking towards the area where the pit was located, and Dean and Sam fell in behind her. Her eyes were darting all around, searching for any signs of any supernatural beings, but it was simply quiet. The breeze blew up a fine layer of dirt, causing their visions to be blurred for a second by a dust cloud. Her whole body tensed when that happened- a dust cloud was the perfect distraction for an attack, but none came. When the dust settled again, she slightly relaxed, and kept moving forward. She gave a quick look behind her to Dean. He nodded once, letting her know that everything was alright. She turned back around and kept plowing on towards the area that had once been the final resting place of the thirteen. When they got there, she just stopped and stared at the indentation in the ground. Sam and Dean sidled up next to her.

"I thought you said it was a pit," Dean muttered in his low tone. Natalie just shook her head once, unable to take her gaze away.

"They- they just shoveled dirt in on top of the bodies. They created a mass grave, and this is what's left." She continued staring at the indentation in the ground.

"Hey," Dean said gruffly. Natalie took a deep breath, and tore her eyes away from the spot. She looked into her father's face, knowing that she was about to get another lecture on not letting her emotions override her actions. But all Dean said was, "Get your head in the game."

Natalie blinked twice. "Yes, sir," she murmured quietly. She knew he was still pissed, and still not wanting to talk to her if he didn't have to. She refused to admit how much that still stung, and instead, turned that anger inward. She walked behind him as he had previously instructed. She pulled her iron machete out, bringing it up to a guard position, and began scanning her surroundings. Dean pulled out the tire iron, scanning quickly himself. He caught eyes with Sam, and nodded. Sam took a deep breath, and muttered, "Here we go." He began the Latin incantation. About two lines in, a sudden gust of chilly wind came up, scattering the dirt around them. Both Dean and Natalie's eyes swung in the direction the wind was coming from. Sure enough, there they were. They made out four creatures walking their way. Four small creatures. Natalie drew in her breath sharply.

"Dad," she whispered. "They're just the kids." She was right- their ghost shapes had taken on their last looks on Earth- eleven of the spirits had died as children. All four that were suddenly staring at Dean and Natalie were disturbingly small.

"You can't think like that," Dean growled. "They're not kids anymore, Natalie. They want to kill you. Don't let them."

"Yes, sir," she said, steel in her voice. Even though Dean wasn't looking at her, he was still slightly relieved to hear the resolve in her tone. She had her head in the game now, just like he taught her.

"Go time," Dean said tightly. Natalie didn't answer, she just raised her blade higher. Dean began walking towards them, wanting to distract them before they got close to Sam. Natalie kept pace, her eyes darting between the four ghosts and her blind spots. The ghosts didn't move, so Dean just got close enough keep them at bay, not wanting to engage if he didn't have to. Sam kept reading feverishly. By the time he got to the fifth line of the consecration, two more spirits had materialized, taking their numbers to six.

When Sam read the word "Sanctum", all the spirits seemed to recoil as one. Suddenly, they snarled, realizing what was happening. Dean just stared at them all, fire in his eyes.

"Bring it on, Shorty," he taunted. The smallest one leaped at Dean with a feral scream. He dodged to the side, easily bypassing the ghost. The creature landed on the ground, coiled to strike, but didn't move.

"On your right!" Natalie bellowed, pointing to another ghost. Dean whipped around just in time to see another child ghost lunging towards him. This time, he wasn't so lucky at dodging. The ghost wrapped its arms around him, taking him to the ground.

Natalie began charging, but the other four spirits weren't having any of that. As if they were synchronized, they immediately surrounded her, each one taking a corner. Through Dean's struggle with his own nemesis, he watched as they surrounded Natalie. With a strong swing of his iron, the ghost on top of him melted into black wisps. He pulled himself up.

"On my way!" he yelled. Natalie's eyes darted over towards him as he sped towards her. He was so focused on getting to her, that he didn't sense what was behind him.

"On your tail!" she screamed, her eyes still watching her captors with laser precision. Dean spun around to find two more ghosts about to jump him. He roared at them, stabbing one right in the chest with the tire iron, while the other one darted around him, looking for a moment of weakness.

"Don't worry about me, I've got this!" Natalie yelled, praying that he would listen to her for once and focus on keeping himself safe. The ghost that was directly behind her let out a snarl, and she whipped around. It began stalking deliberately towards her. Natalie waited until the ghost was close enough, and swung her machete. The ghost, however, seemed to be expecting that. It dodged, but not fast enough. Natalie nicked it in the shoulder, and it spun away, howling. She hadn't made enough contact to make it disappear, but for five seconds, it was otherwise distracted. The ghost on her right saw its window of opportunity, and with the speed of a freight train, came flying though the air at her. The ghost knocked her backwards, straight to the ground. She looked up, horrified, to see a spirit looking down on her, grinning evilly. It raised its fists together to bring them crashing down on her skull, when she suddenly thrust the blade in her hand upward, slicing the ghost's face in two. It exploded into black mist upon coming in contact with the iron. Natalie barrel rolled to her left, and quickly pulled herself upright. She shot a quick glance over at Dean to see how he was doing.

While she had been distracted by her own attacks, another four ghosts had materialized around her father. She quickly dispatched the two ghosts on either side of her with precision timed lunges; the third one had disappeared into the night after knocking her backwards. She began racing towards Dean, when he suddenly hollered, "Down!" She immediately dropped to the dusty ground, and could feel the chill of the ghost go racing over her head. She jumped back up just in time to see Dean point a finger at her.

"Watch yourself!" he commanded. Natalie's jaw dropped- seriously?! She had just saved his ass twice because he wasn't watching himself, and here he was in the middle of a battle with a hoard of pissed off spirits, STILL yelling at her?! The rage she had desperately been trying to suppress surfaced instantly. Before she could say anything, he yelled again.

"Don't roll your eyes at me!"

"I didn't!"

"Good!" Dean hollered. He spun around, the tire iron an extension of his right arm, and took three ghosts with him. The black swirling mist of their dissipating spirits blinded him for a second, then the fourth ghost attacked. He whipped around, and with a backwards thrust, dispatched the last ghost on his tail. His eyes sought Natalie. She was back at it, battling once again. This time, six of them were attacking. But before Dean could even let his brain finish the thought to go help her, with a warrior's scream, Natalie sliced through four of them like they were butter, and her machete was a red hot knife. The air was littered with lingering smoke, and she turned to see Dean staring at her. The fire in her eyes was unmistakable. He knew that she was focused- more focused than he had seen in a while. She was on her game. Screw that, she was at the TOP of her game.

"See?" she thundered at him, the anger refusing to be stifled any longer. She spun on her heel, and blocked a fist from a ghost with the flat end of her blade. "I'm..." she screamed out as she used the ghost's force against him to slice his head off. "Just..." she yelled as she lunged at the next charging ghost, who darted out of the way just long enough for Natalie to run straight into the enormous pile of construction equipment that the ghost had been blocking from her sight. For one moment, her heart stopped as the machete blade snapped clean in two from the handle. She stared at the remains of her weapon in her hand. "Shit," she growled.

Dean began stalking towards her. "You were saying?!" he hollered. Natalie gritted her teeth in frustration. Her eyes wildly scanned the pile of junk. They landed on a pneumatic nailer that had been carelessly left attached to an air compressor. Natalie remembered what Lucas had said about the cheap construction. Praying that she was right in her hunch, she yanked the nail gun up, held back the safety bar, and pointed it right at Dean. He froze in his tracks, surprised.

"Down!" she hollered. Dean hit the deck just like she had only moments ago. Natalie let loose a barrage of iron nails, right into the face of the ghost that had been directly behind her father. As the ghost exploded upon contact with the iron projectiles, she stared in amazement at the nail gun in her hand. This thing had range- that ghost had been at least 15 to 20 feet away. A wild manic grin crossed her face.

"Bitchin'," she hissed to herself.

Dean got up and spun himself around, looking for their next target. The ghosts were rematerializing- the iron was keeping them at bay, but not for long. He threw a comment over his shoulder towards his daughter. "When did you learn to use a pneumatic nailer?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?" she hollered back, aiming and plugging a ghost that was coming up hard and fast on her left. Dean shrugged for a moment, then smacked a charging ghost with the tire iron like a baseball player going for a home run.

"How..." Dean began, then stopped with a grunt as he blocked two ghosts from charging him by thrusting the bar through both of their chests horizontally. "How did you know those nails were iron?" he yelled.

"Lucas!" she threw back, raising the gun again and plugging three spirits almost effortlessly. She couldn't help herself- she grinned like a bad ass, feeling like Bruce Willis in Die Hard. "Yippee Kay Ay, Mother Fuckers," she whispered with a wild smile. Her manic joy was short lived, however.

"AGAIN?!" Dean yelled. "AGAIN WITH THE BOY?!"

"WHAT IS YOUR DEAL?!" she screamed back, losing all reason, not giving a damn that she was throwing down the gauntlet on Dean Winchester in the middle of a massive supernatural battle. "If you haven't noticed-" she ran forward, dropped to her knees, and fired off a round of nails at a ghost shrieking in from her left. "-his information has been life saving, more than once tonight!"

Sam was nearing the end of the incantation, which was causing all of the spirits to become more and more agitated, and therefore more and more aggressive. Suddenly, all thirteen ghosts materialized, surrounding them. Dean and Natalie immediately flipped, in tandem, back to back, and started shifting right to left to keep their eyes on the supernatural beings. Being surrounded by creatures bent on destroying them didn't stop Dean from getting one more shot in on the "boy" front though.

"So glad that HE'S the one here tonight, saving our asses," he spat sarcastically, venom in his voice. A ghost shot through the air, right at him. He swung the tire iron overhead, dispatching it quickly.

"He'd be less than useless here right now!" Natalie retorted. She yanked the nail gun under her left arm to shoot a ghost charging Dean's right side.

"Yeah, no shit Sherlock!" he snarled, turning quickly to cover Natalie's front, and beheading a ghost who was rushing her while her attention was diverted to her left. He spun back around just in time to thrust his tire iron through a screaming ghost child.

"So what's the big deal?!" she hollered, firing off a round in an arc in front of her, pushing against Dean's back to get him to turn. She struck about every other ghost, but they were still rematerializing insanely quickly.

"The big deal is...you're not supposed to need him like that!" Dean yelled, swinging the iron in a gigantic X, taking out two spirits at once.

"I'm relying on his information! Big difference from needing him!" she spat back.

"You're gonna rely on these guys more and more! That's not their jobs! It's MINE!"

Natalie actually dropped her gun to her slide and spun around to face him at those words. "What?!" she screamed. Dean turned on his heel to face her. Just as he was about to speak, Natalie saw his eyes go wide. He put a hand on top of her head and shoved her to the ground. With a loud roar, he sliced through the attacking ghost that had nearly gotten her in the back. He reached down and yanked her back to her feet by the collar. They flipped back to back again, but Dean was too charged up to let the moment go.

"It's my job! I'm the one you should rely on. And if you think I'm going to let that go without a fight, you've got another thing coming!"

"Who said I wanted you to let go?!" she screamed over her shoulder. For a split second, the impact of her words made Dean stop. Natalie whipped around, and bent around his right side, shooting another barrage of nails off. He, in turn, twisted around her left side, swinging fiercely at the ghost children. Just then, all the spirits seemed to writhe and wail as one, and then, in a mighty rush of wind, all exploded into fiery, black mist. With an in-tandem sigh of relief, both father and daughter realized that Sam must have completed the incantation. Natalie and Dean both stood upright, facing each other, breathing hard. Dean's confused eyes looked deep into her burning ones.

"You are the one who taught me never to rely on anyone- and I don't. I don't rely on anyone. But I still NEED you," Natalie gasped, trying to catch her breath. "And if you think for one moment that I'm ever going to NOT need you, YOU'VE got another thing coming," she finished with a huff.

Dean couldn't move. His worst fear- the fear that he had never told anyone, not even Sam, was that she was going to leave him, and he would never see her again. That terror took a stab of truth in that moment. Natalie _needed_ him. No stupid blonde kid with dimples was going to stop that. As that truth sunk in, for the first time, he saw just how ridiculous he had been, overreacting at her spending time with Lucas. But he shoved that thought down, back into the forbidden zone of his mind that he tried to forget about. He simply closed his eyes for a moment, inhaled deeply, and then looked her right back in the face.

"Alright then. Glad we cleared that up," he said, gruffly. Natalie's mouth dropped open, and she shook her head slowly, an unbelieving grin spreading across her face.

"You're an idiot," she whispered.

"Hey! Watch your-" Dean began, but she suddenly wrapped her arms around his middle, hugging him hard, squeezing the air out of him so he couldn't finish the sentence. Once again realizing how sincere she was in her words, he capitulated briefly, and squeezed her back. Knowing that the time Dean would tolerate a hug was almost up, Natalie released him, and stepped back. He smirked once at her, then his gaze dropped to the nail gun still in her hand.

"Pneumatic nailer, huh?"

She sighed heavily. "Please don't ask me. Not tonight," she begged. He just snorted a laugh. She dropped the gun in the dirt, and they began walking towards Sam, who was jogging to meet them.

*SPN SPN SPN*

The next morning, Natalie was outside, sitting on the hood of the Impala, having once again completed the morning coffee run. Her phone was in her hand, and she was feverishly texting away, interspersed with giggles due to the content of the text conversation. Dean was packing the last bag inside the motel room. He walked outside, his arms loaded with their luggage.

"Off," he growled as he walked past her. With a heavy sigh and an eye roll, Natalie slid off the hood of the car, and walked towards the trunk. She slipped her phone into her pocket, and helped her dad haul their stuff into the trunk. She noticed him pulling out a book from one of the bags, but he didn't say anything. A comfortable silence was settling between the two- whatever demons had been plaguing both of their thoughts over this whole trip had seemed to be exorcised along with the spirits of Ludlow. They were back to normal.

As Dean shut the trunk carefully, Natalie's phone buzzed again in her pocket. He raised one eyebrow, but didn't say anything, even though he knew exactly who she was texting. He saw her smile twist to the side upon reading the message. He counted to ten in his head to keep himself calm, and then mentally patted himself on the back for not immediately rushing to go rip the boy's lungs out.

"So how long are you two going to be continuing this little phone chat?" Dean said in low tones. Natalie looked up at Dean and smiled.

"Don't worry, Dad- it's over. He has to go into work, and since we're not sticking around, I told him we probably wouldn't be talking for a while." She gave Dean his own shit-eating grin back. "You know- let him down easy. Don't want to break the poor boy's heart outright."

Dean couldn't help but chuckle- no matter what else, she was TOTALLY his kid. "Good," he said genially. He held his hand out. "So give me the phone."

Natalie's face registered shock. "What? Why?" she asked innocently.

Dean didn't answer, just crooked his fingers at her, indicating that she should obey, now. She dug her phone out and slapped it into his hand, then shot him a bitch face, expecting an answer. In response, he shoved the book that he had just pulled out of the trunk into her hands. It was her Latin book. Her face immediately switched to annoyed, and she gave him a look that said, _seriously?_ He shrugged nonchalantly, his own grin creeping onto his face.

"It's a long drive home. If you can read a new incantation by the time we get there, you can have the phone back. But you're not getting it back until you can. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," she said despondently. She stalked back towards her car door, yanking it open and plopping herself in the backseat. Dean just chuckled to himself again. He knew they had a long ways to go, but they were going to be alright. She needed him. And he was going to be there for her, whatever it took. If that meant riding her ass about her studies, or covering her back in a supernatural fight to the death, it didn't matter. He was her hero, and he was going to keep it that way.


	15. Don't Tell Dad, the Babysitter's an Ange

**Good Day, Beautiful SPN Family!**

 **I hope you had a wonderful holiday season, and are comfortably getting back into the swing of things. I wanted to say a huge thank you for all the follows, favorites, and especially the reviews. Guys, it just makes my day to know that my stories make you happy. I adore every single one of you. Again, I always try to respond to each review, and if I haven't yet, my apologies. Know that in my heart, I'm thanking you and sending you love and pixie dust! I will respond eventually!**

 **To answer a couple review questions from guests- In the last story, I think Dean did apologize, in his own way. He let her end up talking to the boy, didn't he? :) After this situation, he also apologizes by going easier on her when it comes to boys. Stay tuned to find out what I mean by that! I also had a request to see Natalie as a baby. So this story is for you! This was in response to a question posed by my fabulous muse, Jenmm31 (she's the Sam to my Dean). If you guys haven't read her stories yet, go do it, right now! You won't be sorry. They're hilarious and heartwarming, and flawlessly woven into the world of SPN.**

 **Here we go! Please read, review, and enjoy!**

 **A/N: In this story, Natalie is 10 months old. Please see profile for disclaimer.**

Dean paced nervously around the motel room. What the hell was he going to do? As if in response to his unanswered question, Natalie, his almost one-year-old daughter, babbled incoherently, albeit delightedly. He hoisted her a little higher from where she was sitting on his hip, gave her a distracted kiss on the temple, and resumed pacing. He didn't know what to do. Sam was busy, sitting on his bed, going through his contacts list on his phone. Dean prayed that he would come up with something, but as soon as the thought crossed his mind, Sam heaved a large, frustrated sigh.

"I got nothing," he said, dejectedly tossing his phone onto his bed.

"What the hell are we supposed to do, Sam?"

"I don't know! Stop biting my head off!"

"Then find a freaking solution here!"

"What part of 'I got nothing' didn't come out in English, huh?"

Dean rolled his eyes at Sam's bitchy tone. The last thing he needed was for Sam to start getting all angsty on him right now. "Okay- there's gotta be someone we haven't tried."

Sam pulled on his chin in thought- he was really starting to come up dry on this one. "What about the owner of the motel?" he asked suddenly.

Dean stopped, and gave Sam an _are you kidding me?_ look. "Not gonna happen."

"Come on. She seemed okay..."

"Yeah, and if she's not already wasted by this time of night, I'm a freaking unicorn."

"It's only seven o'clock."

"My point exactly. She smelled like a distillery when we checked in this morning."

"Okay. Fine, so she's out."

"And Bobby's sure that he doesn't know anyone in the area?"

Sam shook his head despondently. "Doesn't know a damn person," he said, his use of a swear word indicating just how frustrated he was.

"Well, we can't take her with us!"

"I know that as well as you do."

"Then what the hell are we supposed to do?!"

"Still- got nothing!"

Dean grumbled under his breath. Bobby had called yesterday, saying there was an emergency in Maine that needed the boys' attention, right now. Without another question, the Winchesters had jumped into the Impala, and drove straight through the night to get to the small town. There was a pack of werewolves that were attacking children- trying to get to them early and raise them as killers. There were no other hunters even close to the area, so Bobby had called up his boys. However, in all the panic of trying to get to the town quick enough to save as many children as they could, they had all but forgotten about their recent addition to the family. Natalie, Dean's ten month old daughter, had been so easy to deal with, in spite of the hunter's lifestyle that Sam and Dean lead, that they hadn't stopped to think about what they were going to do with her during the hunt. They had been picking cases that were a bit on the simpler side- just salt and burns. or a quick exorcism, requiring only one of them at a time, so the other could stay with the baby. If they had a more difficult case, they had been very careful to make friends in each town they were in, who were only too delighted to baby sit for a night.

This case, however, was a different story. Obviously, they were both needed on this hunt. They were not only dealing with a large, well organized pack of monsters, but a pack that were targeting young children. Had they really thought about it, they would have left Natalie with a friend or colleague on their way to Maine. They had just pulled in this morning, and hadn't gotten a chance to scout for potential babysitters. But it was too late for that. They were here- and the moon was about to rise. And they had a ten month old in tow.

Dean was still pacing around the room, trying to come up with something- anything. They couldn't leave her alone in the motel room, and they couldn't take her with them. There was no one they knew in the general vicinity, except the rather inebriated clerk at the front desk of the motel they were staying at. Dean's thoughts kept bouncing back and forth in his brain, like a psychotic tennis ball. He wasn't about to let Natalie get anywhere near that pack. And he wasn't about to leave her here alone in a motel. So what was he supposed to do? He picked up his own phone and began searching through his contacts. Maybe there was someone on his list that wasn't on Sam's. As he tried to scroll through his list, the ten-month-old on his hip decided that the pretty light up thing in Daddy's hands was supposed to be for her. She reached for it, and Dean automatically pulled it away from her. For some reason, she loved phones, especially when they were lit up. He guessed it was just a baby thing- you know, shiny objects equaled toys to them, or something like that. As he pulled it away, she stretched out her little arms for it, batting Dean in the face as she tried to touch the forbidden object.

"Ow," he mumbled in a muffled tone when her tiny arm backhanded him across the mouth. Even at ten months, she seemed to understand "ow". She withdrew her arm, but pointed at the phone and began her baby babbling again. Dean ignored the pointing and continued to scroll down his list. He finally reached a name that made him stop his frantic pacing. He stood stock still, his mind racing as he weighed out his options. Sam looked up, surprised by Dean's sudden halt from wearing a hole in the carpet.

"What? Did you find someone?" Sam asked in a rush. He bound off his bed, and walked quickly to Dean's side. He pulled the phone out of his brother's hand. Dean huffed, annoyed.

"Really? First she wants my phone, now you?" he forcefully spat at Sam. "Unbelievable," he growled, shaking his head. Sam wasn't paying attention, however. His eyes widened as he saw the contact that Dean had highlighted.

"Whoa. Are you sure?" he asked, his large hazel eyes worried.

"No, but what other choice do we have?" Without another word, Dean snatched his phone back from Sam and pressed "call". He held it up to his ear as it began ringing. He closed his eyes, resigned to what he was about to do. Just then, the other end of the line picked up.

"Hello?" came the gravelly voice on the other end.

"Cas. I need your help," Dean said.

"What do you need?" Cas said, suddenly appearing right behind Dean. Dean nearly jumped out of his skin. "Cas! How many times have I told you not to do that?!" he barked. He began bouncing the baby on his hip to make sure she was okay with his sudden, startled movements, but he didn't have to. Natalie was staring wide eyed at the newcomer. She tilted her head down onto Dean's shoulder, but wouldn't stop staring at Castiel. Cas found himself staring back at her.

"Sorry," he said to Dean, still locked in a staring contest with the baby. "She's bigger than she used to be," he commented matter of factly.

"You haven't seen her since she was like, what- a month old? Of course she's bigger," Dean grumbled. "Where the hell have you been?"

"On business."

"Oh, well, that explains it. Look, Cas, I need your help. Sam and I have a case that we have to get to, tonight. But we can't take Natalie with us."

"Why not?" the angel asked innocently.

"Why not?!" Dean snapped. "She's a freaking baby! I can't leave her in the car, and it's kind of hard to keep a machete in one hand, and a one year old in the other!"

"Cas, she's too little to be left alone," Sam explained patiently, trying to help the puzzled angel. "We're wondering- can you babysit?"

"Baby...sit?"

"Yeah. It means watch her. Take care of her. Make sure she's okay." Sam looked intently at Cas to see if he was getting it. The angel had his typical "I'm confused about everything" look on, so Sam tried again. "For example- she's going to be hungry soon, so you feed her."

"Feed her," Cas said blankly.

"This crap," Dean said, producing a small jar of baby food, and holding it out to Cas. Cas took it in his hand, and stared at it for a moment.

"She can eat glass?"

"This was a bad idea," Dean said, turning to Sam. Sam knew they really didn't have any other options, so he walked towards Cas, his hand extended.

"No, look," he said, taking the jar out of Cas's hand. He twisted the top to reveal the orange mush inside. "You feed her what's inside the jar. Look, these are sweet potatoes. Use this little spoon," he explained, picking one up from the table littered with the usual smatterings of baby paraphernalia. He dipped the spoon into the small container, and held it to Natalie's lips. She leaned forward, away from Dean, and obediently ate the baby food. Sam expertly used the spoon to gently swipe her lips, catching the mush that hadn't quite made it in her mouth. Upon tasting the sweet potato, she waved her arms, wanting more.

"Looks like she's ready to eat now," Dean said, walking over to the collapsible plastic high chair. "Too bad they don't make this mush in Bacon Cheeseburger flavor," he commented dryly as he deposited her into the chair, buckling her in. "Don't worry, kid- soon as you got all your teeth, I promise," he murmured to the baby girl with a grin. She responded with an adorable gurgle that made even his tough-as-leather heart melt a bit. He quickly turned to Cas.

"She's a really messy eater-" he began.

"Yeah. Totally takes after Dean there," Sam interrupted. Dean shot his brother a glare before continuing.

"So you'll probably have to clean her up after she eats. She'll stop eating when she's had enough. If you need more, there's more jars on the table."

"Okay- diapers are in the bag under the table-"

"More clothes are in the duffle bag next to mine-"

"If she wants toys, just grab anything except that green fuzzy duck thing-"

"When she's ready to sleep, lay her down in that bassinette-"

"She doesn't stay asleep long, so heads up-"

"And call if you need anything. Okay?" Sam and Dean abruptly stopped talking and stared at Castiel. His eyes had been bouncing back and forth between the brothers like a ping pong ball as they spouted off instructions, trying to keep up and absorb all the information they were throwing at him.

"I think so," he said hesitantly. He looked at Natalie once again, curiosity in his eyes. How could something so tiny require so many instructions? Sam and Dean exchanged a helpless look. Before panic could get the better of him, Dean cleared his throat and moved towards the bed, where the duffle bag of weaponry was waiting. He pulled it up over his shoulder and grabbed the Impala keys that were laying on the end table between his and Sam's beds. They really didn't have any more time left to lose.

"We're going to try to make this as fast as possible, but we're not really sure about the numbers we're dealing with here. Just...make sure she's okay." Dean clamped down on the panicky feeling that was squeezing the breathe out of his lungs, but he could hardly go wrong with a guardian angel. Right? He took another deep shaky breath, trying to will his lungs to expand and his nerves to dissipate. He knew Natalie would be perfectly safe with Cas, so why the hell was he freaking out? He couldn't think about that right now- he had a job to do. She would be fine. He would be fine. Everybody would be just freaking fine.

Castiel sensed Dean's inner turmoil, and spoke gently. "Dean- I will be the best Baby Sitter I can be. Natalie Grace will be safe with me," he reassured the young father.

Dean swallowed, not wanting to admit that Cas had just effectively read his mind and laid his emotions out on the table. "Of course she will be," he said gruffly. He also didn't want to admit that the way Cas said "Baby Sitter" had him questioning if the angel really knew what he was doing. Dean walked over towards the ten month old. "Hey," he said, pointing a finger in her face. "Be good," he commanded jokingly, knowing that she couldn't possibly understand him. She banged her hands onto the tray attached to the high chair. "Alright then," he said. He leaned down and gave her a quick kiss on the top of her head, then made his way towards the door, with Sam right behind him. As he opened the door, he paused to let Sam exit first. Then, he turned back to the angel, who was once again staring at his daughter.

"Hey-" he said loudly, trying to get Cas's attention. Cas's eyes swung to Dean. "You know when we say 'baby-sit'- it doesn't mean to SIT on the BABY, right?"

There was a long, silent pause. "Yes. Of course."

"Oh god." Dean said, shutting the door behind him before he panicked completely and called the whole thing off. Cas heard the roar of the Impala engine, and the squeal of the tires as they boys drove away from the motel. The angel blinked once, then turned his attention back to the baby waving her arms impatiently, waiting for more food.

"I'm supposed to feed you now," he said to Natalie, wondering if she would respond. She stopped waving her arms, and stared at Cas again. She seemed to realize that it was just him now- there was no Daddy and no Uncle Sam. However, when she saw the jar of baby food in Cas's hand, she forgave him for not being daddy and started banging her hands on the high chair tray again. Cas walked over to the baby, gingerly picking up the spoon that Sam had left on the table. He dipped the spoon into the small jar, and walked towards Natalie like she was a rabid lion, and he was carrying a bloody steak. She opened her mouth and leaned forward. Cas managed to tip the spoon into her mouth, while trying to stay as far away from her as possible. True to Dean's word- Natalie was a messy eater. About half the contents of the spoon dribbled down her chin. Cas furrowed his brow.

"That is supposed to stay inside of you," he said to the child. She giggled in response, which confused Cas even more.

"But you seem to be happy about it." He took a tentative step forward, and fed Natalie another spoonful of the sweet potato mush. She waved her arms delightedly. This time, and Cas wasn't sure how exactly this happened, but she ended up with a glob of baby food on her nose. He cocked his head to the side as he looked at her. She was still babbling with a grin on her face. So Cas decided to try an experiment.

He dipped the spoon in again, and instead of putting it at Natalie's mouth, he touched her cheek with it first. It left a small orange streak. Natalie was confused for a moment- this was completely new to her, but when the spoon reached her mouth again, she didn't care. Another spoonful came at her, touching her other cheek first, then feeding into her mouth. That caused her to giggle- this was new. This was fun.

"You are enjoying this," Cas murmured in wonder. "I must be doing this correctly." He continued to smear the baby food all over her face as she continued to eat. The infectious baby giggles grew and grew with each spoonful. They had almost reached the end of the jar, when Natalie suddenly spat a mouthful of the sweet potato mush back at Cas, plastering his face with the goo. He froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. Then Natalie giggled again.

"That is an unusual way to share your food, but I thank you nonetheless," he said in his gravelly voice. She let out a sweet baby cackle. When Cas tried to once again give her another spoonful, out it came again with the force of a projectile missile, narrowly missing him but coating the wall instead.

"I suppose this means that you're done?" he asked, still confused as to why she wasn't speaking words. She was too busy licking her own cheeks to even babble at him. He walked away towards the sink in the bathroom, and caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. The sticky orange mush was covering him as much as it was covering the baby. He began wiping his hands on his face, but that only resulted in the goo getting smeared in his hair. It was an unusual look. He was fascinated by the way that the mush made his hair stand up. He was in the process of giving himself an orange Mohawk when a horrible smell reached his nose. He nearly gagged on the stench.

"What on Earth is that?" he said aloud, turning back to the baby, who was still seated in her high chair. He walked closer to her, and the smell seemed to get stronger.

"That smells like...sulfur," he muttered to himself. At once, a horrible thought crossed his mind. He pulled out his phone immediately and dialed Dean. After one ring, the other phone picked up.

"Cas? This is Sam on Dean's phone. Are you okay?" came Sam's voice through the phone speaker.

"I think the child is possessed," Cas said blankly, no preamble whatsoever.

"What?! What do you mean possessed?" Sam yelled. Cas could hear a screeching of tires through the phone, then Dean's voice roaring through.

"What the hell?!"

"Dean, hang on- Cas, explain what you mean," Sam said, trying to stay calm.

"There is a smell of sulfur coming from her. It's putrid."

"Oh brother," Sam muttered. "Cas, she's not possessed- she just needs to be changed, that's all."

"Changed."

"Yes, changed."

Cas eyed the baby doubtfully before answering. "I've never successfully done a human transformation before. What should I change her into?"

"What?! NO! Not like that! That's not what I mean!" Sam yelled again. Cas heard a scuffle on the other end of the line, followed by some muffled words, then a smack, a "hey!", and Dean was on the phone instead of Sam.

"Cas- what the hell did you do to my kid?!"

"Sam said that I'm supposed to transform her into something to stop the smell of sulfur coming from her."

"That's not what he said, dipshit. He said CHANGE her. As in change her diaper."

"What is a diaper?"

More scuffling on the other end of the phone, then Sam was back on the line. "Okay- so if you undress her, you'll see that instead of the normal underwear that humans wear- she's wearing a diaper. You need to take it off her, clean her up, and put a new one on her. Remember I said that diapers were in the bag under the table?"

"Yes. I remember you saying this."

"Okay. Go get one diaper. Let me know when you've got it." Cas walked over to the table. There was a large blue bag underneath the table. He pulled out a small diaper, examining it closely before picking the phone back up.

"I have a diaper."

"Good! That's good. Okay- so you're going to lay her down on a soft surface- take the diaper she's wearing off, clean her up, and put the new diaper on her in place of the old one. Do you understand?"

"Yes, I understand."

"Good. You're going to need both hands to do this, so I'm going to hang up, okay?"

"Alright."

"Call if you need anything else, okay?"

"And Cas?" Dean voice roared though the speaker of the phone again. "If I come back and you've changed one iota of my daughter's DNA, I will rip your wings off and shove them up your ass. Got me?"

"Understood."

"Good."

"We'll see you later, Cas." CLICK.

Cas looked at the phone in his hand. He didn't understand why Dean was getting so upset- Sam HAD told him to change the baby. He shrugged, then walked over to her. He tried to lift Natalie up, but she was still buckled into the chair, and the chair came with her. She squealed in protest, which made Cas put her down quickly. He examined her for a moment, then found all the straps that were keeping her tethered to the chair.

"Oh I see. This is very clever," he mused, thinking of how ingenious humans could occasionally be. He figured out the buckles- eventually- and was able to lift Natalie out. The smell increased when he did that, so he was very quick to try to follow Sam's instructions. He laid her down on one of the beds, and tried to undress her. She unintentionally didn't make it any easier on him, waving her arms and legs around in delight.

"Could you please stop moving?" he asked her. At that moment, she discovered that there was still sweet potato on her fingers, and tried to stick both hands in her mouth. She was so absorbed in her task that she actually stopped kicking her tiny legs for a moment.

"Thank you very much," Cas said to the baby, who still wasn't answering. "You really should speak, you know." Natalie was still sucking on her hands, ignoring him. Cas sighed, and quickly undressed her. He removed the diaper. Upon seeing its contents, he nearly threw up. He held it between his thumb and his forefinger, and dragged it away from him. Realizing that that didn't stop the smell, he quickly balled it up, walked to the door of the motel room, and tossed it out into the parking lot. He heaved a sigh of relief when the air in the room seemed to clear. He walked back to the baby, and suddenly remembered that Dean had said she needed to be cleaned after eating. Sam had said to clean her before putting a new diaper on. Well, there was only one thing to do then.

Cas picked up Natalie, and walked into the bathroom. He turned on the tub, but became concerned that a baby may not like the temperature of the water too hot. He congratulated himself on his forward thinking. He turned it to what felt like a safe temperature. He left the tub spout on, but the stopper out. He didn't want the bath to get too full either. He plopped her down in the middle of the tub.

"I know that humans like their privacy in the bathroom, so I'll come and get you in five minutes," he said to the baby who was sitting up in the tub before closing the door. He walked away, curious by what else may be in the blue bag that contained diapers. He upended the contents onto the floor, and found among all the other items, a bottle of baby powder. He was concerned, after reading the label, that it was made from babies- why would Sam and Dean keep something like that around?- but upon reading the backside with instructions, realized that it was something to put ON babies. Natalie was a baby. He should put this on her. He suddenly realized that his five minute time limit on her bath was up.

Castiel walked back to the bathroom, and opened the door. Natalie was still sitting in the middle of the tub, delightedly playing with the water pouring out of the faucet, splashing it all over the place. Between the splashing and her playing, some of the orange mush from dinner had managed to be wiped off her face. And as she was sitting in a small pool of water, most of her other end was clean too.

"I suppose you're as clean as you're going to get. But you really should do a more thorough job in the future," he chastised the baby. He picked up a towel from the sink, and leaned down into the tub to pick her up. She held her arms up to him and gurgled, excited to be picked up. Cas found himself staring at her again as he pulled her in close and she babbled at him. These tiny humans were amazing. She clearly thought she was effectively communicating with these nonsense words, but he found them to be...quite...cute. When she laughed, it made him happy. When she was excited for him to pick her up, it made him feel good.

"I understand why humans like making more humans now, Natalie. Thank you for teaching me that," he said sincerely. Natalie, not understanding a word, smiled and cooed in response. "I am supposed to put baby powder on you now. Let's do that," he said, wondering why he was still speaking to the baby who clearly wasn't listening. It must be another human reaction, he supposed. He walked back into the room, Natalie still wrapped in the towel, and laid her back on the bed. He remembered Dean saying something else about more clothing for her in his bag. He walked over to Dean's duffle and opened it up. He didn't find anything that looked like it would fit Natalie, however. He continued to pull out clothing items, leaving them strewn all over the floor, until he reached the bottom of the bag. He didn't even think to check the bag that was sitting right next to Dean's. He simply pulled a tee-shirt out of the pile of clothes, and decided to dress Natalie in that. He turned back to the baby, still sprawled out on the bed. He twisted the top of the baby powder, sprinkled some into his hands, and proceeded to cover her, head to toe, in the white softness. Between his determination to cover her with the stuff, and plenty of flailing on her part, the entire bed had a nice film of baby powder on it by the time he was done. She sneezed in response to all the baby powder. "Bless you," Cas said politely.

By the grace of God alone, he figured out the diaper, and fastened it into place on her. He then took Dean's black Metallica tee shirt, and pulled it over her head. The bottom was of course too long, so he tied it in a knot, bundling her legs inside. She still had plenty of room to squirm around, so it was fine by her. He picked her up off the bed, wondering what in the world to do next with her. She was getting bored with the lack of action, and began twisting and squirming. The fact that Cas was also holding her out at arm's length wasn't exactly the most comfortable position for her either. She whimpered a bit, which caused Cas to give her his typical confused glance. He continued studying her, but didn't change positions, which only made the baby more uncomfortable. She wriggled again, and let out a shriek of displeasure. When that didn't work either, she screwed her face up and began to cry. Cas's eyes went wide.

"Please stop that," he said quietly, not realizing it was him that was making her cry. She twisted again and continued to whimper and whine. Her little face was quickly starting to turn red, and Cas panicked. What was wrong? She had been perfectly fine a moment ago. His eyes darted around the room, looking for some way to either make her happy or stop her crying. They landed on a couple toys strewn on the couch.

"Ah, yes. I believe children like toys," he muttered to himself. He walked over to the couch, still holding the wailing baby at arm's length. He sat down, and plopped Natalie down on his lap. At the change of position, her cries slowed down, but she was still pretty worked up, and continued to whimper. He reached over, and tried to hand her a toy- a colorful ring of plastic keys. She wasn't expecting it, so it fell through her hands and onto the floor. They both watched as the keys crashed to the ground, and after a moment of quiet, Natalie giggled. Cas's head whipped around in surprise. Giggling was good. She had giggled when he had smeared the food on her face, and she ate, so he knew he had nailed that. Maybe this was a way to play, too.

He took another toy and dropped it on the floor. This time, it was a purple duck that squeaked when you squeezed it. As it too hit the floor, it let out a humorous squawk that Natalie apparently found hilarious. She burst into ten month old laughter, which, to his immense surprise, caused Cas to laugh. Natalie stared in wonder at the angel laughing. Cas stared in wonder at the baby laughing. Then they both began laughing at the same time. Castiel stared at the child again, and found himself captivated by her animated face, and bright green eyes. He felt a sudden rush of protective pride over her- similar to what he felt for Dean. That made sense in his angel's brain- of course the child would cause the same reaction as her father, but Cas did find something even more compelling about her. Dean certainly never laughed like this. And Castiel thought to himself, _maybe if there is more laughter in Dean's life, he would be happier._ It was something that Cas would think of for a very long time.

He eventually graduated to throwing toys all over the room, which kept the baby screaming with laughter. After about ten minutes, though, he noticed her eyelids started to slide close. When they did that, and she realized it, she would yank her eyes open as wide as they could go. But eventually, they would begin to slid shut again, only for the whole cycle to be repeated. Cas tilted his head, wondering what she was doing. He began to imitate her, wondering if she was trying to send him a signal or something, since she still refused to speak. After about five minutes of the most absurd blinking game ever played, her eyes finally closed, and stayed closed. She began to slump down, and Cas panicked. Had she lost the air inside her or something, like he had seen balloons do? Was that why she was deflating? She began to crumple towards his torso, and he squeezed her shoulders to make sure he had a good grip on her. However, the sudden movement jarred her again, and her eyes flew open. She reached out her tiny hands towards him, her fists opening and closing.

"That looks like you are beckoning me," he commented. She leaned forward again, her hands impetuously making fists. "Oh. That is what you are doing," he said. He gingerly pulled the child closer to him, and, with an exasperated sigh, she gave up her fight against her heavy eyelids and succumbed. After not moving for a solid minute, it finally dawned on Cas that she had fallen asleep.

"You are tired," he said blankly to the sleeping baby. "You should have told me." He gently cradled her in his arms, and she seemed to snuggle into him in her sleep. He found himself staring at her again. How had this tiny human captivated him so? He didn't know how long he sat there, staring at the perfect little creature, just watching her sleep. She was fascinating, even when she was unconscious.

All too soon, (but in reality it had been about three hours), the door to the motel room opened. Dean barreled through first, looking a bit scratched and dirty, but otherwise, unharmed. The second the last werewolf had been killed, he threw Sam in the car and drove back to the motel like a bat out of hell. He didn't want to admit that he was just a nervous father who was in absolute panic- he was way too cool for that. His eyes immediately zeroed in on the angel, and then on the tiny bundle in his arms. Dean breathed a sigh of relief that he didn't even know he was holding in. He made a beeline straight for the two of them. Castiel looked up at the hunter.

"She's been asleep for a long time," he said, looking up at Dean. Dean's eyes quickly scanned the baby- other than a bit of dried orange baby food that was still in her hair, and the fact that she was wearing a gigantic Metallica shirt, she seemed perfectly fine. He leaned down, and pulled Natalie out of Cas's arms. He needed to hold her close, make sure with his own eyes and hands that she was perfectly okay. While he was still inspecting, Sam entered the room. There was one bloody gash on the sleeve of his coat, and he looked like he needed a hot shower, but he too looked none the worse for the wear.

"Hey Cas?" he asked. "Why is there a diaper in the middle...of the..." and he stopped speaking. His abrupt silence shook Dean out of his inspection of his kid, and he finally got a good look around the room. It looks like Toys 'R Us had blown up. There were all manner of brightly colored, squeaky, fuzzy, and noisy things all over the floor, the table- there was even a small blue bear hanging off of the lampshade, looking like it had too much to drink. A mass of sweet potato mush was still plastered on one of the walls, and was somewhere between permanently caked on and only partially caked on. Dean's clothing was also strewn about, and everything seemed to be covered with a fine layer of white dust. Dean looked around in horror at what appeared to be a baby crime scene.

"Cas! What the hell did you do?" he barked.

"I baby sat," Castiel responded, looking very proud of himself. "I would like to do this again." It was hard to take him seriously with his orange crunchy Mohawk sticking up seven ways to Sunday. Just then, the sleeping baby squirmed in Dean's arms from all the noise. Natalie woke up, and saw Dean's face. She let out a squeal of delight.

"Hey, kiddo," he said, tightening his arms around her. "Sorry to wake you."

"Da da!" she responded. Dean froze for a second. His eyes shot up to Sam, who had also frozen, hearing her utterance.

"Did you hear that?" Dean whispered, almost afraid that he had been mistaken.

"Dude- did she just...I think she just said her first word!" Sam said, an incredulous grin creeping across his face.

"You heard it! She just said 'da-da'!" Dean whooped, not even trying to contain his giddiness. As if to confirm, Natalie banged her hands against Dean's chest and said "Da-Da!" again. Dean let out a short, excited laugh.

"She's finally talking! It's about time," Castiel said matter of factly. And in the blink of an eye, he had disappeared.

"Wait! Cas, can't you...damn it," Dean said, looking around the room at the disaster area. "Ah, screw it," he murmured, and pulled his little girl closer to him. "Say it again- say 'da-da'."

She obliged. "Yeah!" Dean said, spinning around the room with her, which made her giggle. As he was dancing around the room with his laughing daughter, cheering every time she said his name again, Sam quietly pulled out his phone and snapped a picture, smiling to himself.


	16. Natalie vs The Nap

**Hello Beautiful SPN Family! I hope you are all doing well. And staying warm! Big thank yous and hugs and high fives and all good things to all of you for your favorites and follows. And to all of you who take the time to review, a super big massive hug. You all mean the world to me, and I adore you.**

 **I've been having requests for younger Natalie one-shots, so here you go! As always, if there is anything you'd like to read, please let me know, I'd love to hear from you!**

 **The biggest hug in the world to Sammy- Jenmm31. She not only helps me with my material, but she writes fabulous stories of her own. Go check out her sisfic about Kate Winchester, and her daughter fics about Emily, Abby, and Alison! She's even got a killer series in Grey's Anatomy! She totally rocks the house and deserve a Pulitzer along with a month's paid vacation in the Bahamas. Go check out her series and show her some love.**

 **Here we go! As always, read, review, and enjoy!**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is 2. Disclaimer- please see profile page.**

Sam was dreading it. Dreading it like the plague. It was mid afternoon, and they all knew what that meant.

Nap Time.

Natalie was only two, but she knew when nap time was coming, and she had no problems letting everyone in the general vicinity know that she absolutely _despised_ nap time. She could get herself so worked up between the crying and the tantrums that she would eventually fall asleep from sheer exhaustion. Sam had no reason to believe that this afternoon was going to be any different than any other afternoon.

They were on their second day of driving; their new case taking them back across the country. He and Dean had been switching off on driving duty, catching naps while the other drove. On long trips like this, Natalie would usually pass out in her car seat around midnight, and sleep straight through until about six in the morning. Sam had no idea how a two year old could have enough endurance to stay awake till midnight, but she had always been like that. Even when she was an infant, she often would only sleep for a couple hours at a time, then be bright eyed and bushy tailed all over again. Somehow, she knew she couldn't function without some sleep during the night, but during the day was a complete other story. She didn't like to miss any of the action, even if it was just driving down another stretch of never ending highway- it didn't matter. She didn't want to be asleep during the day at all. However, all the endurance that she had at night time came with a price if she didn't sleep during the day. She was a stubborn little girl, and if she got tired from missing a nap, she was likely to be having a melt down from ten p.m. to midnight that included tears, projectiles, and screams loud enough to bust their eardrums. So all in all, it was much more favorable to try to get her to take a nap during the day, no matter what the cost.

Dean's tired eyes were searching the signs on the highway, just praying that their exit was coming soon. When he finally saw it, he muttered, "Oh thank God." He pulled off and took the first right, ready to stop at the absolute first motel they came to, no matter what condition it was in. Luckily for them, there was a decent looking motel a couple of blocks down. Without a word, Dean pulled in, right up to the front office. Sam tiredly climbed out of the car to check on vacancies. Dean turned around in his seat, just in time to catch Natalie yawning hugely.

"Hey squirt," he said. Her heavy eyes swung to him. "We're here. You tired?" he asked, hoping that he would get lucky on this one just like he had with the motel.

"No!" Natalie said resolutely, and yawned again.

"Of course not," Dean muttered, turning back in the seat. He rubbed his sandpapery eyes with his fingertips. Natalie wouldn't nap in the car during the day, and so she had missed nap time yesterday, making for a very loud evening. She had finally fallen off at midnight, but again, it wasn't going to be enough to get her though today. Dean sighed, knowing there was a battle coming. He moved his fingers from his eyes to his temples, and started rubbing in circles.

Sam came out of the office, having made short work of getting them a room. He thunked back down into the passenger's seat, and pointed in front of him, in the direction Dean should go to park. Dean just nodded numbly, and pulled forward.

"Room Eighteen," Sam mumbled. Dean nodded again. He pulled up right in front of the door, and put the car in park, switching off the motor. For a second, neither brother spoke. They suddenly took a deep breath at the same time, and locked eyes. It was Go Time. They both knew the faster they moved, the more successful they would be.

Sam got out quickly and unlocked the motel room door, then made his way hastily to the trunk to get their bags. Dean swung his legs out of the car, and made his way over towards Natalie's side behind Sam, pulling the door open and swiftly unbuckling her from her seat. She was rubbing her fists into her tired eyes, but wound her tiny arms around Dean's neck when he pulled her out of the seat. She nuzzled into his neck, content. Dean walked into the room, his eyes immediately searching for the location of the sofa. She would only really sleep on the sofas or couches of any given room- she didn't even like roll away beds. As he made his way towards the light orange sofa that was up against the far wall of the room, he chuckled to himself, thinking about Natalie's stubbornness. She was definitely a Winchester, alright. He sat down carefully on the sofa, pulling Natalie into his lap. She sat up, and began playing with her fingers, singing a made up song to herself. Dean couldn't place it, but it sounded a little bit like Back in Black by AC/DC. He grinned- he was raising this kid right.

Just then, Sam came through the door, carrying their duffle bags. He dropped his and Dean's on their respective beds, and then walked as subtly as he could towards the sofa. He gently set the bag down, as if it contained a nuclear bomb instead of a Power Rangers blanket and princess pajamas. Natalie wasn't paying attention, however. She was still too absorbed in her own hands to notice. Dean locked eyes once again with Sam. It was as if they were preparing for a particular difficult exorcism instead of simply trying to get a two year old down for a nap. Dean wondered for a moment if he wouldn't rather do the exorcism. At least when a demon screamed, there was only a fifty percent chance you'd blow an eardrum. With Natalie, it was more like a ninety percent chance.

"Hey kiddo," Dean began cautiously. Natalie blinked sleepily up at him. "I think it's na-"

"No! Don't say it!" Sam suddenly hissed. Dean swung his head to look at Sam in surprise.

"What do you mean 'don't say it'?"

Sam sighed. "She had a complete meltdown yesterday when you said...N-A-P," he explained, spelling the word out. "You really want a repeat of that right off the bat?"

Dean rolled his eyes and nodded, remembering. "Oh yeah, that's right. Good call, Sammy." He turned his focus back to his daughter. He opened his mouth, but then realized he had absolutely no idea how to start this thing off. He turned his head back to Sam. "So...how are we gonna do this then?" he questioned.

Sam shrugged. "I don't know."

"You're the genius; you're supposed to know everything."

"Give me a vampire, and I can gank the hell out of him. However, a stubborn two year old is a bit out of my depth, Dean."

"You never fought this much when you were younger," Dean said wryly. Sam just blinked at him.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean all I had to do was tell you to go lay down, and that was that. You loved sleeping." Dean looked down at the child on his lap. "Why couldn't you have inherited that gene?" he said jokingly to her.

"Well, it's obvious isn't it? The stubbornness she got from you overpowers the common sense gene."

Dean rolled his eyes again. As usual, he was going to have to pull this one out on his own. He tried shifting Natalie so she was lying in his arms as opposed to sitting on his lap. She tolerated that for about five seconds, and then pushed herself upright again. She began playing with her fingers again, tying them together and pulling them apart.

"C'mon squirt, aren't you tired?" Dean asked, hoping that somehow between the car and now, her answer would have changed.

"No tired," she declared. She dropped her hands and looked warily up into Dean's face. Dean realized she knew what was coming. Before he could tighten his grip on her, she wriggled off his lap and crawled to the other end of the sofa. She leaned up against the arm and continued playing with her fingers, but this time, she was watching both Sam and Dean intently. Dean just sighed and reached for her.

"Noooooooooo!" she wailed, and flipped herself off the sofa. Dean lunged forward to catch her, but she landed on her feet with amazing dexterity. She took off towards the table and chair that was under the front window of the room. She squeezed herself under one of the metal legs of the chair that had clearly belonged in the seventies. She watched them with piercing green eyes, like she was a wild animal, trapped by two hunters.

Sam snorted. "Nice going."

Dean just glared at him. "Well, thanks for your help, douche nozzle."

Sam threw up his hands. "Dean! You can't say stuff like that around her! She's starting to repeat anything and everything we say!"

"Okay, first off? When she swears, that's freaking hilarious. Second- she's not even listening to us right now- she's too wound up. She's not paying attention to a damn thing we say."

"Yeah? You think?"

"I know."

"Then trying saying N-A-P and see what happens."

"I'm not that dumb, Sammy." Both boys looked back at the crouching child underneath the chair. She was still watching them intently, ready to bolt if need be. Dean turned back to Sam.

"So fine then. How do we get her down for a na-"

"DEAN!"

"FINE! For an N-A-P then?!"

"No! NO NAP!" Natalie suddenly screamed. Both boys' eyes swung back to her, surprised.

"How the hell did she know what you were spelling?" Sam asked, flabbergasted.

Dean just shook his head. "She's smart- she must have figured it out."

Sam stared at Dean, incredulous. "She's two."

"Bigger fish right now, Samuel!"

"It's Sam!"

"Yeah, well, maybe you need to go down for a nap." At the mention of the dreaded word again, Natalie let out another cry. Sam opened his mouth to chastise his brother for using the word again, but Dean cut him off.

"We were already down the rabbit hole," he growled as his excuse for using the forbidden word. Dean walked over to the table, and got down on all fours right in front of the chair. Upon seeing her father come for her, Natalie scooted back as far as she could go, which wasn't very far, considering the table and chair were right up against the wall. Dean gently picked the chair up and away from her. He didn't want to try to drag her out through the bars of the seat, afraid he might hurt her. Upon losing her over head coverage, Natalie crinkled up her face, and started to cry real tears. Big fat drops began rolling down her face, and she hastened to brush them away. They were blinding her vision, and she needed to keep an eye on Dean in order to escape him.

"C'mon, kiddo," he said quietly. He stretched out his hands towards her, and she darted to her left, getting her feet under her quickly. Dean sighed. The advantages of being two years old and having very short legs were definitely factors to be desired at the moment. Natalie made a wide arc around the room, stopping behind Sam. She grabbed his leg, attempting to hide her face behind his knee. Sam just looked around behind him. Natalie was clinging to him desperately. Her tear stained face was turned towards him, pleading. Sam sighed heavily. She was starting to do this more and more often- running to Sam when she didn't want to do what Dean told her to do. Which did not sit well with her father. Dean pulled himself to his feet, and began walking towards them.

"Natalie, stop it. Come here, now," he said, with a touch of sternness in his voice. Natalie just gripped Sam tighter.

"No nap, Unca Sam," she said desperately, holding on to him for dear life. Sam twisted around and reached down for her, gently.

"Come on, Natalie," he said in a soothing tone, attempting to pick up the toddler. Once she realized he wasn't on her side either, she let out another ear piercing scream, and, pushing off from Sam's leg, tried to run away. She was so worked up, however, that she wasn't watching where she was going in the unfamiliar space. She ran right into the corner of the end table next to the sofa. Her momentum was so great that it knocked her backwards completely. She hit the ground hard, landing on her bottom. She stared at the offending piece of furniture for a moment, then slowly began a cry that got progressively louder and louder.

Dean and Sam rushed immediately to where she had fallen, Dean getting there first. He grabbed Natalie's face in his hands, desperately searching for blood or any gashes. When he found none, he heaved a sigh of relief. Natalie's water works weren't stopping, though. He knew that she was more than likely just scared from the sudden impact, and not really hurt.

"Sshhh, shh, shh, it's okay. It's okay, baby girl," he said, trying to pull her in close. Even in her upset state, she knew that the closer she got to Dean, the less likely it was she was going to be getting out of nap time. She pushed away from him, wailing.

"No nap! No nap!" she screamed. Dean pulled her hands down from his face where she was attempting to stop him.

"Hey- hey- Natalie, calm down," he said, trying to restrain the fighting two year old without hurting her.

"NO NAP!" she screamed loudly, the tears still pouring down her face.

"Hey!" he said, pulling her hands down quickly, looking her right in the eye. "Okay!" he said over her cries. She immediately stopped fighting and stared back at him. "No nap, alright? No nap," he said, making sure she was looking right at him. She heaved one more sob, and breathed heavily, exhausted from all her running, but didn't move.

"It's okay, Natalie, no nap," he said once more.

"Dean," Sam hissed.

"Shut up, Sam," Dean grumbled back without turning his head.

"No nap, Daddy," Natalie said miserably, wanting confirmation on what Dean had just declared.

He nodded. "No nap."

Sam gasped again. "Dean!" he barked.

Dean shot his brother a death glare. "I said, shut up, Sam." He put his hands underneath Natalie's arms, and picked her up, setting her on his hip. "Okay, kiddo. So no nap. What do you want to do?"

Natalie was still pushing away from him at arm's length, not entirely sure that this wasn't a trick. When she didn't answer, Dean started throwing out options for her.

"Do you want to...color?" he asked. Natalie relaxed her arms a bit, but shook her head.

"Okay, no coloring. How about some cartoons?" Dean tried, making his way towards the sofa. An old and cracked remote was sitting on the end table next to the sofa. He picked it up and handed it to her. She examined it for a moment. When Dean thought that she might be interested, he moved to sit down on the sofa. Upon realizing this, Natalie shoved against him again, and howled.

"Noooooo!" she said, apparently thinking that TV was code for getting her down on the sofa to sleep. Dean sprang back up quickly, wincing at her screams, pulling the remote out of her hands.

"Okay! Okay, no TV," he said, dropping the remote on the couch. He began rubbing small soothing circles on her back. She relaxed again, dropping her head onto his shoulder. He could feel how tired she really was, and his heart twisted.

"How about we read, huh? Do you want to read?" he asked gently. Natalie thought about it for a moment. She was all achy and didn't feel good- that was a direct result of her exhaustion, but of course, being only two, she didn't understand that. A nice book sounded perfect. She nodded into her daddy's shoulder.

"Okay then." Dean made his way towards Sam's duffle bag. He looked to Sam for a bit of help, but Sam just crossed his arms, annoyed. He couldn't believe that Dean was letting a toddler call the shots on this one. Dean rolled his eyes at Sam, and yanked open the bag. He pulled out the first child's book he could find, which just happened to be their old copy of "Green Eggs and Ham". "How about we sit on Daddy's bed, huh?" he asked his daughter. She once again nodded into his shoulder. "Alright then, let's do this." He tossed the book onto the bed, and put her down carefully. He kicked his shoes off, and sat up against the headboard. He pulled Natalie in close to him, on his left side. She snuggled into him, laying her head on his stomach. He reached down, and grabbed the book. He began reading in a quiet tone, doing the voices of the different characters that she loved. She giggled intermittently at him. About three pages in, Dean suddenly shivered.

"Whew," he said, shaking his arms. Natalie sat up, wondering why he was stopping the story.

"It's kind of cold in here, don't you think?" he asked Natalie. She turned her head for a moment, thinking about what he said. She suddenly scrambled off the bed, and went over to her duffle bag by the sofa. Sam watched as Natalie pulled her favorite blanket out, and waddled back to the bed. She held it out to Dean as a gift.

"Well, thanks, kiddo," he said. He picked her back up, blanket and all. She immediately nestled down into him again, pulling the blanket with her. Dean carefully covered them both with it. Sam just shook his head, dropping into the seat under the window. Not only was Dean letting Natalie get away with no nap time, he was having her run around, getting him blankets when he was cold. He just shook his head again, annoyed at his brother's lack of common sense.

It wasn't much longer after that. Dean got another three pages into the book, when he heard the slow, rhythmic breathing start. He looked down, and sure enough, Natalie was sound asleep. He grinned triumphantly.

"Yahtzee," he whispered to Sam. Sam's head shot up, and saw Natalie out for the count. His eyes widened upon looking at the snoozing toddler.

"She's asleep," he muttered in disbelief. Dean just shrugged as if to say, _nothing to it._

"So all that book and blanket stuff was..."

"A ruse to get her to calm down," Dean confirmed. "I knew that all I needed to do was get her quiet- she was too tired to do anything BUT fall asleep," he whispered conspiratorially.

Sam's mouth dropped open in amazement. "Genius. You're a genius."

"That's what I've been telling you all along, Sammy."


	17. The Big One

**Hello Beautiful SPN Family! Happy Tuesday to you!**

 **I hope you're all well- kinda stressed out at work here, so I'm just trying to dive into these stories to help pretend it's all not real, Ha Ha! Anyways, I hope you enjoy! Thank you to all who read and especially review- you guys just mean the world to me. It melts my heart and makes me a little more brave every time you all choose to read my work, and I can't even tell you how much I appreciate it.**

 **Biggest thanks to Jenmm31- with her, I'd be dead in the water. Go show her some love and check out her amazing stories. All of them. Seriously, read them all. They're fantastic! Thanks Sammy, for saving my bacon again.**

 **Okay, you know the drill! Read, review, and ENJOY!**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is 19. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

It was a typical Wednesday evening, going on about a half hour past nine. Well, typical for a Winchester, anyway. Sam was sitting on his bed in their dingy motel room, scouring the Internet for new cases. There was an interesting one in Missouri, about a slew of people who had randomly dropped dead without so much as a how-do-you-do. There had been nothing in the coroner's reports to indicate why. No signs of foul play, no lingering illnesses, nothing. These people were simply found in perfect health, except they were...well...dead. It was intriguing enough that Sam was ready to present it to Natalie and Dean as soon as they got back from their supplies run. Natalie was still only nineteen, so she couldn't buy the beer, but Sam knew if he sent her to the store with his brother, chances are, they would come back with at least some kind of food that would not eventually give them either a heart attack or diabetes- or both. They had been gone for about an hour, but Sam wasn't worried. They were both more than capable of handling themselves in any given situation.

Just then, as if in response to his thoughts, Sam saw the headlights of the Impala flash through the window. He didn't bother getting up; he was still too absorbed in the article he had found. However, as he heard the car doors open, Natalie and Dean's raised voices carrying through the motel room door pulled his gaze away from the laptop. Raised voices from the two of them? They almost never fought, so it was extremely odd to hear them going at it now. Sam sat up a bit, straining to hear what they were saying through the barrier of the motel walls.

"...there was no other way!" Natalie hollered loudly.

"Sh! Keep your voice down! Do you want to wake up the whole friggin' motel?!" Dean scolded. Sam's brow furrowed- since when was Dean worried about being quiet?

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm just freaked out," he heard Natalie say. Sam's whole body tensed up at her words. If something had spooked Natalie, that was never a good sign. She had been to hell and back with the two of them. What could possibly have freaked her?

"I know. But listen to me- we'll fix this, alright?" Dean was saying.

"If it wasn't for that stupid orange ball, none of this would have happened."

"Well, it did. And we're just going to have to deal with this now. Look, kiddo- you made the right call on this."

Sam heard Natalie snort. "Are you sure?"

"Of course I'm sure. I know everything."

"Har har." Natalie broke off suddenly. Sam heard her shuffle her feet. "There was just so much blood. And it was just…everywhere."

"Well, that's going to happen in situations like this. Just be glad it wasn't yours. That poor damn cow, though..."

"Right?" There was another awkward pause in the conversation as Sam tried to play catch up in his head. They had just gone out for food and beer- now they were talking about a massive amount of cow's blood-what the hell had happened?

"Should we tell Uncle Sam?" he heard Natalie whisper.

"Oh, god, no," Dean said immediately. "Look. We've got enough going on without involving him in this."

"But he can help us."

"I said, no. We don't need to drag him down with us. Got it?"

"Yes, sir." Natalie capitulated quietly. But Sam wasn't so easily swayed. Whatever it was that the two of them had gotten into, he was going to help. They were family- they were all he had. However, he knew that Dean would be pissed and shut down if he found out that Sam had been eavesdropping. He knew his best bet was to play it cool, and try to get to Natalie later. He could probably get her to spill her guts. He leaned back against the headboard of his bed, trying to appear casual. He heard the lock on the door click, and his eyes dropped back down to his laptop. When the door opened, he looked up, wanting to make it look like he hadn't noticed until this moment that they were back. From their conversation, he had expected one or both of them to be covered in blood, but they were both spotlessly clean- no signs of anything on them at all. He tried not to let his surprise show on his face.

"Hey," he said nonchalantly.

"Hey!" they both barked in unison, clearly tense, almost jumping out of their skins when they saw him. Sam's eyes widened as he watched them awkwardly shift away from each other.

"You seem surprised to see me," Sam said with an attempt at a joking smile.

"I, uh...I just thought that you'd, you know, be asleep by now," Dean said, shifting his feet and avoiding eye contact.

Sam's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "It's nine thirty."

"Oh, uh...yeah. Feels later. Must be the different time zone," Dean said lamely. He made a beeline for their cooler, and Natalie dropped the food bags on the table, not making eye contact with Sam.

"I'm going to go shower!" she announced loudly. "Like a normal person!" she added. Sam saw Dean throw her a _seriously?!_ look, which she returned with a _what do you want me to say?!_ shrug. She slammed the bathroom door, but then five seconds later, yanked it open again. "Forgot my clothes!" she said, again, much louder than she needed to. When she disappeared into the bathroom again, Sam let his gaze wander to his brother. Dean was still staring at the bathroom door, but upon catching Sam's eye, quickly turned his back and resumed crushing beer bottles into the ice in the cooler.

"Everything...okay?" Sam asked calmly, waiting for Dean to just spill whatever it was that was going on.

"Yup! Yeah! Everything's peachy! How are you?" Dean said, not turning around.

"O...kay?" Sam said, questioningly. He walked over to Dean, who suddenly turned around, his fists at the ready, like Sam was about to attack.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa- what the hell are you doing?!" Dean thundered at Sam, who jumped back in surprise, holding his hands up.

"I was just going for a beer! Geez, what's wrong with you?" Sam thundered back. Dean froze for another split second, and then shook his arms like he was shaking off a bad feeling.

"Nothing. Nothing's wrong." He sniffed, and dug his hand into the cooler, and came up with a bottle. "Hey," he said. He tossed the bottle towards Sam, eying him warily. "Heads up," he said in a tight voice.

Sam effortlessly caught the bottle Dean had tossed at him. "Why did you do that? Now I have to wait for the carbonation to go down before I can open it!" he said, annoyed. Dean wasn't paying attention though. He sighed in relief upon seeing Sam catch the bottle. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Uh- yeah. Yeah, I'm uh, I'm sorry about that. Don't know what I was thinking," he said gruffly. He plucked the bottle from Sam's hand, then handed him another bottle that hadn't been shaken up. "So," he said, trying to clear the awkward moment. "Did you find anything good? Any good cases for us?"

Sam just stared at Dean, still trying to figure out what the hell was happening. He suddenly remembered the article. "Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, I think I found something. There's this town in Missouri..."Sam began. Dean was just nodding, casually walking over towards the bathroom, nodding his head at Sam, pretending like he was listening. Sam tried to ignore it, continuing to fill Dean in on the details of the case, but he couldn't miss Dean leaning up against the bathroom door, and subtly knocking on it behind him, all the while, nodding like Sam was giving a life-affirming testimonial. The bathroom door opened cautiously, and Sam saw Natalie peek out at him. Dean slowly twisted his head back towards her, and Sam heard him mutter "uh-huh" to her, like an all clear.

Sam stopped speaking. He had no idea what to make of the entire exchange. He locked eyes with his niece, and said the only thing he could think of.

"I thought you were showering?"

"Oh, um yeah!" she said suddenly, jumping at his words. "I...err...forgot." She quickly pulled the door shut. Sam heard the water start up. Dean walked back to him.

"So- a town in Missouri, huh?" Dean said, cracking open his beer. Sam just stared. What the hell was going on with these two?

*SPN SPN SPN*

The next morning, Sam was just getting out of the shower. After Natalie had emerged from the bathroom last night, there had been no other awkwardness, no strange movements or randomness from either of them. It had just been business as usual, so Sam was starting to let it go. He pulled on a clean undershirt and buttoned up his favorite orange flannel over top. He shook his long hair out of his eyes, brushing it away from his face. When he pushed the bathroom door open, he caught sight of Natalie feverishly typing away at her laptop, which was sitting open at the table in the room. Dean was leaning over her, staring intently at the screen. Sam quietly shut the door again, but left it cracked open so he could hear what they were saying.

"Come on, kid, if anyone can find it, it's you."

"I don't know, Dad. This is way bigger than anything I've ever tried to hunt down before. I'm scared."

"Stay focused- you'll find it." Sam heard Dean shift his footing in the shag carpeting. It sounded like he was now pacing behind Natalie.

"Did you try looking for ectoplasmic sludge?"

"Yeah, but that's got no connection to the orange ball, and that's kind of important."

"Maybe it's not going to have a direct connection."

"Then tell me what all the acidic mist was about."

"Look, I don't know, alright? Just keep searching."

"Look at this! I think I found something!" At that declaration, Sam pushed open the bathroom door, unable to contain himself any longer. Both father and daughter's eyes shot to him. Dean straightened up quickly and turned to Natalie.

"And that's something you need to be studying. It's very important to know...that," he said loudly, pointing to the computer. Sam walked slowly out of the bathroom, his eyes darting between Dean and Natalie.

"What are you studying, Bug?" he said casually. Natalie froze at his words, her eyes going wide. She was clearly trying to make up an answer, but instead, opted for the truth.

"Oils," she finally squeaked out.

"Oils?" Sam asked, surprised.

"Oils. For...oiling things."

"Oiling things."

She nodded vigorously. Sam shook his head- she was horrible at lying, and she knew that HE always knew when she wasn't telling the truth. He walked over to her, and she began shifting nervously in her chair. Sam leaned down to see what website she was on, and sure enough, it was for oils. For Holy Oils. He gave a quick scan of the cover page, and was caught up short by some of the contents.

"These are oils for witch hunts," he said, starting back in alarm. Natalie's eyes shot to Dean, imploring him to help her out.

Dean cleared his throat. "Yeah. I just figured, you know..." he trailed off.

"Figured what?" Sam asked, now annoyed at the levels they were going to to keep whatever this was from him.

"Figured that...she should know...that."

"Oils for Witch Hunts."

"Yup."

"Dean, you know as well as I do that witches are mortal- holy oil doesn't work on them. This website is total crap."

"Yeah, well, things change, Sammy," Dean growled, looking away. Sam jumped on that immediately.

"Things? What things?" Dean froze again, but resumed his casual demeanor almost immediately.

"Things like...we need to stay here for another day. Things like that."

"Another day, Dean? Why?"

"Because I said so."

"Yeah, you're going to have to do better than that." Sam said forcefully. Dean pursed his lips

"Because..." he began again, stammering as he searched for an answer.

"Laundry!" Natalie suddenly piped up from her chair. Dean snapped his fingers and pointed at her.

"Because laundry." He picked up the duffle where they kept their dirty clothes, and stalked towards the motel room door.

"I'll help you!" Natalie said, jumping up and almost knocking her chair over in her haste. Both of them scurried out the door like there were rabid dogs on their tails. Sam was left alone again, still trying to figure out what was going on. Okay- so Dean had Natalie looking for Holy Oils- for witches. So it was pretty safe to assume that witches were involved in whatever they had run into last night. Maybe they had run into a coven at the convenient store? Sam shrugged- not the weirdest encounter that they had ever had. But Natalie kept mentioning an orange ball. Sam wracked his brains, but couldn't come up with any lore or stories that involved an orange ball. Maybe it was some sort of cursed object? He pulled the chair away from the table and sat down, quickly minimizing the website on Natalie's laptop, and opened a new search engine. He typed in "Cursed Orange Balls". He immediately regretted his choice of words. He slammed the laptop shut in disgust when the search engine yielded its rather graphic results. This was going to get him nowhere. He slipped silently out of the room, and made his way towards the motel laundry facility. He knew this stupid laundry excuse was yet another lie, and was willing to bet they were discussing their options regarding whatever it was they were facing. He tried to push down the hurt and rejected feelings about them not including him in whatever problem this was. They were a team- a family- and they always had been. What was so bad about this case that they were deliberately keeping him in the dark?

Sam snuck up towards the window of the small concrete block laundry room. They had turned all the washers on in the room, even though there had barely been enough laundry between the three of them to fill one machine. Luckily for him, Dean and Natalie seemed to be standing relatively close to the window he was crouching under. He strained to pick up their words over the thrum of the machines.

"...it's going to be okay. I went through Dad's old journal, and I found a ritual. I think we can get rid of it tonight."

"Tonight? Are you sure?"

Dean sighed heavily. "Well, to be completely honest, no, I'm not sure. But it's the best bet we've got. The journal said it would work best if we were at a big open area."

"There's a high school about two blocks west- they've got a football field. We can do it there. What time?"

"Midnight."

"Of course. The witching hour."

"Did you get a chance to catch anything else on that website before Sam interrupted you?"

Sam peeked over the edge of the window cautiously. Natalie was shaking her head. Sam slumped back down under the window, determined to remain hidden.

"I'll go over it again today. Can you keep him distracted for a while?"

"Sure thing. I'll figure something out."

"Thanks. I really think that the oils are going to be enough to take out the light source, but I'm still not sure how to conquer the hell cat."

"Yeah- that is one nasty little fluff ball."

Neither one of them spoke for a moment as Sam's mind spun out. Light source? And hell CAT? He had never even heard of such a thing before. Before he could formulate any theories, Natalie piped up again.

"How are we going to keep Uncle Sam from following us tonight? I mean, he has to know that something's up by now."

Sam heard Dean give an annoyed sigh. "Yeah, of course he does. Look, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. But he absolutely cannot know about this."

"I know. It's just..."

"What?" There was another awkward pause, and then Sam heard Natalie sniff. He slowly peeked around the edge of the window again, and couldn't believe what he was seeing. Natalie- the kid who hated to cry- was sobbing. Real tears were streaming down her face. She immediately started batting them away like she always did.

"Dammit!" she hissed, angry at herself. Dean reached out and grabbed her arms.

"Hey," he said firmly. "It's okay. You're allowed to be upset, you know that, right?" he asked, more gently.

"Dad..."

"Don't. Don't let this thing get in your head."

"How am I supposed to do that? I mean- this- this is the Big One." Dean nodded, but tightened his grip on her arms.

"I know. But we're in this together. It's going to be okay. I'm not going to let anything happen to you or Sam, understand?"

"What about you? What if something happens to you?"

"Nothing's going to happen to me. Don't worry about that." He pulled her into his chest, and held her as she continued to cry. Sam turned around and slid down the wall, thunderstruck. He didn't know what to think- he had no thoughts left. Something was after the two of them, and he didn't have a clue as to how to begin to help. The fear, the uncertainty he was feeling- this was awful. He had to figure out something, had to crack this case before tonight. Before he could even come up with a brain wave, he heard Natalie walk out of the room. He slunk down, afraid that she would turn and see him crouching down under the window, but she just walked straight towards the room with her head down. Sam looked through the window again. Dean was facing away from the window, his hands resting on the washing machine, his head drooped.

Sam couldn't take it anymore. He pulled himself to his feet, and marched into the laundry room. Dean looked up in surprise at the sudden intrusion, then pulled himself upright, and put on his famous _everything's fine_ face. Sam wasn't having it- not right now. This hiding, the keeping secrets- it all had to stop.

"Alright, Dean. Tell me what's going on," Sam ordered.

"Don't know what you're talking about," Dean said with a stoic shrug.

Sam shook his head, irritated. "No. Don't give me that bull. You know damn well what I'm talking about." Dean just pursed his lips and looked away.

"What happened? What is it that you two are hiding from me? What's after you?" Sam pressed.

"You been spying on us?" Dean asked, a touch of warning in his voice.

"You two haven't exactly been subtle about this whole thing. And you know damn well that I always know when Natalie's lying to me. Now I'm not going to ask you again."

"Good."

"No...Dean, that's not what I meant!"

"Well, Sammy, I'm not talking."

"What do you mean 'you're not talking'?"

"I mean I'm not talking. You need to stay away on this one."

"Why?"

"Can't tell you."

"Come on, Dean, I can help!"

"Forget it."

"Dean, look, if Natalie's actually scared enough to cry over this, then you know as well as I do how big this is. Let me help. Please."

Dean looked Sam full in the face for a minute, then hung his head with a sigh. "Look, Sammy..."

"Dean..." Sam interrupted, his own voice full of warning. Dean just put up a hand.

"Just let me get through this, okay?" Dean looked back at Sam, waiting for him to acquiest. Sam took a deep breath, and nodded.

"Look, I know you want to help. Hell, I know how much this is killing you to not know. But you're not getting involved in this. Natalie and I can do this, and believe me when I say, it's better if you're not involved." Dean broke off, and suddenly stepped closer to Sam. Sam looked into his brother's pleading green eyes. "Sammy, it's hard enough that Natalie's caught in this. Don't you get caught in this too. Please. I'm begging you. Stay away. Stay far away on this one." Sam's heart stopped. He felt completely torn. On the one hand, the idea of letting Dean and Natalie face whatever this was without more backup was completely unacceptable. On the other hand, he knew that if he showed up at the football field at midnight, and Dean saw him, that Dean would lose focus, trying to save both him and his daughter, and put himself in even more danger. Devoid of thought, the empty pit of nothingness gripping his chest, Sam couldn't do any more than simply nod at Dean. Dean sighed in relief.

"Thank you. Look, we're going to be alright. One way or another, we're all going to be alright. You just need to trust me on this one."

*SPN SPN SPN*

That night, at 11:50, Sam had been pretending to be asleep. He heard Natalie and Dean quietly slip out of the room. His heart seemed to throb harder in terror. He knew he had promised Dean that he wouldn't follow him, but this was just too much. With Natalie's life on the line as well, the situation took on a whole new level of anxiety for him. Without another thought, he bolted out of bed, and threw on his clothes as fast as he could. He grabbed every weapon within reach that he could stuff in his jacket, and he stalked out of the room.

He made sure to sneak around the block the long way, so that Dean and Natalie wouldn't see him following them. He made it to the football field, right as his watch switched to midnight. He took a deep breath and ducked to the side, hiding in the entrance to the football players' locker rooms. His eyes scanned the field for the orange ball, the witch, the cat, or whatever the hell it was that was after them.

The midnight breeze was blowing gently, trying to cool his agitated mind. There was the usual hum of crickets, the occasional sound of a sprinkler from a nearby lawn, but there was absolutely no movement on the football field. He didn't see his brother or his niece. His wristwatch ticked away the agonizing seconds.

Finally, about ten minutes later, he couldn't take it. He slowly walked out onto the dark field, his eyes scanning madly, just waiting to draw a weapon at the first sign of movement. Suddenly, he heard a rustling behind him- right behind him. Before he could turn, he felt a sticky, gooey substance plaster the back of his neck. He yelled, and began clawing away at it, thinking that it was the acidic mist that they had talked about. He turned to see what was attacking him, and got a face full of the stuff. He wildly flailed, trying to wipe his face clean of the goo. He heard wild, demonic laughter echo through the arena. He pulled his hands away from his face, and looked down at the substance. It was...it was...

Silly String?

Sam stared at his hands for a moment, unable to comprehend why he was covered in Silly String. All of the sudden, the laughter doubled and became louder, and it suddenly registered with him. He knew that laugh. He knew both those laughs.

"Awww, man, Sammy! Right into our trap!" Dean hee-hawed, spitting out the words in between peals of laughter. Natalie was doubled over herself, the can of Silly String at her feet where she dropped it when she couldn't contain her laughter any longer. Sam just blinked at the two of them.

"See?" Dean said, turning to Natalie. "I told you it would work!" He grinned triumphantly, and pumped his fist into the air, letting out a rebel yell.

"I still can't believe he fell for it! The witch and the cow's blood and the hell cat...that was the biggest crock of shit I've ever heard!" Natalie gasped, still trying to catch her breath.

"Wait, wait..." Sam said, still frozen to the spot, the silly string dripping off his hands and face.

"Yes?" Natalie said primly, standing upright, with a perfect look of innocence. Dean just looked thrilled.

"This was just...a prank?" Sam said, unable to really wrap his mind around the moment.

"Okay, million dollar question here- did you try researching 'Cursed Orange Balls'?" Dean asked. He and Natalie both looked intently at him, waiting for the answer. Still unable to really form a complete sentence, Sam nodded mutely. Dean threw his head back and blurted out one short laugh. Natalie groaned.

"Pay up, kid!" Dean barked with joy. Natalie rolled her eyes and slapped a bill into her father's outstretched hand.

"What?" Sam said, the moment slowly beginning to catch up with him.

"I bet her twenty bucks that you'd try searching that. Disgusting, isn't it?" Dean chortled. Natalie was still shaking her head, but she was still giggling too. Sam's mouth dropped open as the depth of this prank dawned on him. These two idiots had really done their homework.

Dean turned back to Natalie. "I have to hand it to you though, kiddo. Pulling out the REAL waterworks? Priceless."

"Just call me Meryl Freakin' Streep," Natalie agreed, the glee running rampant in her voice. Dean just shook his head, still howling with laughter, impressed at the levels she had gone to.

"Wait- how did you know I'd see you crying? How did you even know I'd be watching you two in the laundry room?" Both father and daughter swung around simultaneously, incredulous looks on their faces.

"Seriously?" they said in tandem. Sam's bitch face molded into place. Apparently, his actions were a bit more predictable than he thought.

"So all of that- the witches, the oils, the mist, the blood- it was all just...a prank?" Sam said, his voice growing louder, the terror of the moment draining away, only to be replaced by annoyance, bitchiness, and a deep urge to laugh.

"Not just any prank, Sammy."

"The Big One!" Natalie said delightedly. Sam looked back and forth as father and daughter high fived in perfect unison, not even needing to look at each other. Sam slowly shook his head, a crazy grin spreading on his face.

"You are both so dead!" he shouted.

"Run! Save yourself!" Dean called out to Natalie, who took off running, madly laughing, as Sam football tackled Dean to the ground.


	18. Everything You Ever Part 1

**Hello Beautiful SPN Family! I hope you're pleasantly surprised to hear from me again so soon, HA! This story just wouldn't leave me alone until it was written down- I'm sure some of you know what that's like! It's another case story, and this is part one. This one deals with a lot more philosophical thoughts and adult feelings than I normally write, but like I said, it kept beating on my brain till I got it on paper. Or screen. Or whatever. Side note- the title of this story is a mini shout out to Felicia Day (who if I can figure out a way to work her in to the story line, Charlie will TOTALLY be here!). Extra points to you if you know what it's from!**

 **I want to take a moment and thank all of you for the follows, favorites and reviews. I know I've said it before, but the fact that you guys care about Natalie as much as I do and want to keep reading her- that's one of the best feelings I've ever had in my life. I cannot thank you all enough. Please, send me your requests- I have quite a list of Natalie stories to write, and it may take a while, but I promise, I will get to each and every one. I thank you all from the bottom of my heart. I know a lot of you want to see more young Natalie too- she's coming, don't you worry!**

 **Another big special thanks to Jenmm31- the sister I never knew I had! She has been so supportive, gracious, and helpful- not just in my writing, but in my personal life too. I owe her so much, but the best I can do is to tell you all to go check out her stories- they're just as incredible as she is. Go show her the love!**

 **Alright- you know the drill- read, review and enjoy!**

 **A/N- this is a 3 part story, with this being part 1. In the story, Natalie is 19. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

The rain would never stop. Or it never seemed to stop. They sped down the highway, the whine of the Impala's engine not enough to drown out the pounding drops on the car's metal roof. Natalie was trying to get past the sound, keeping her earbuds in and her iPod on shuffle. She was currently listening to the best of Guns and Roses- usually enough to put her in a good mood, but this pouring rain was like the world's worst downer. The slick gray road looked as depressing as it felt, like all of the color was being sucked out of this place and relocated to somewhere that it could be appreciated. And that certainly wasn't this endless stretch of highway with three Winchesters barreling down it.

The storm had started last evening, and Dean decided he didn't want to drive through the rain all night. He made up some bogus excuse about them all needing to rest and focus for the hunt, but Natalie knew it was because he couldn't quite see as well as he used to, given his age, and it freaked him out. Driving in the rain was getting harder, now that he was getting older. He absolutely refused to get glasses, and also refused to let her drive, so all in all, she was grateful they had stopped last night.

However, just because they stopped, that didn't mean the rain did. It had continued pouring, coming down in buckets, as they tore down the highway. Her uncle was discussing the details of the new case with her dad, but she just continued to sit back with her eyes closed, letting Slash's magical guitar riffs pour through the headphones and take her away. She already knew the case forwards and backwards. A small town in Jackson County, Missouri had suddenly reported an outbreak of people dropping dead. Randomly. No reasons at all. Sam had actually discovered the case a couple days ago, but they had been delayed by a decidedly brilliant prank from Team Dean and Natalie. She grinned to herself- well, she still thought it was brilliant, her Uncle Sam- not so much. Her smile faded as she looked back out of the rain streaked window. She tried to close her eyes, to drift away, dreaming of sunny days and easy cases and cute boys, but then her iPod switched to "November Rain". That was the final straw; the irony was too much to take.

She ripped the earbuds out of her ears, and switched the iPod to "off". Sam and Dean were still knee deep in discussion. She sighed to herself. Just once, just ONCE, maybe they'd have a car ride that didn't start with discussing people getting killed, or evil sucking someone's souls out, or monsters who did more than go bump in the night. But she knew that was just almost too much to ask for. They were Hunters. It was what they did.

Natalie had been thinking more and more about it lately. She had been raised, since birth, to know what was really out there- all the angels, demons, wendigos, tulpas, you name it. Her family had been hunters, and she was no different. Well- she was a little different. All of her other family members had tried to get out of hunting, at least for a while. Her grandmother had tried to get out, her uncle had tried to get out, and even her father had tried to live the apple pie white picket fence life for a while- that had been right before she had come along. The difference between them and her was- she had no intention of getting out. Ever. She didn't want to. She felt a drive inside her, something that she couldn't really identify. She _needed_ to be saving people, and hunting things. She needed to bring justice to an unfair world that didn't really know what it was up against. She needed to get whatever this drive was inside of her out, doing something; otherwise she knew she would simply cease to exist. At least, that's how she felt about it. The inner need wasn't something that she could just put aside. She didn't want to, but moreover, she really couldn't. It was always nagging her- eating at her thoughts. And the primary thought was- if I can't act on this inner desire, this inner need to be helping to make the world a better place with the gifts I've been given- then why am I even here? What is the point of all of this? What reason am I here on the Earth?

That brought on a whole new round of thoughts. She was here to eradicate evil, she knew that. But beauty in the world had been created for a reason, too. Mankind was meant to observe and enjoy. She was astounded every day by simple things- things that other people would take for granted, simply because she had never had the luxury of taking it for granted. Like walking into a store to buy something other than supplies and ammunition. She knew Sam and Dean tried to give her as much of a normal life as was possible in their line of work, but that was the trouble. None of them had a clue what a normal life was.

She roused herself from her esoteric thoughts with a firm shake of her head. She pushed down the guilt she felt at wanting normalcy. She shoved aside the terrifying thoughts of not being able to save the world. There really was nothing to think about- she was working, as hard as she could, every single day, to make the world a better place. She wondered when it would ever be enough. If the drive would ever subside and leave her in peace. _NO!_ She scolded herself, sitting up and clearing her throat in an effort to shake off the feelings once again. She was finding it harder and harder not to slip into these meanderings through her depressing subconscious lately, but she was the master of herself- and as such, wouldn't allow herself to think about this more than she really needed to. Otherwise, it would bog her down. It would impair her judgment. And she didn't want any distractions while she was on a case. She had a job to do, and that was where her focus needed to lie.

She chimed into the conversation, trying to figure out where they were in the never ending round of twenty questions that came up with their cases. She was surprised, however, to realize that they had moved past the case discussion, and were on to a whole new topic. And, judging from the part of the conversation she had jumped into, they had been for a while.

"No way dude! There is nothing redeemable about it!"

"Two words for you, Sammy. Short Round."

"Okay, yes, the kid was cool, but that didn't make up for the whole movie!"

"Dude- Short Round IS the movie."

"He was just a little stereotype- it was actually more insulting than anything else."

"You're not Asian. You don't know if they thought it was insulting."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Say what you will, but Temple of Doom sucks, and everybody knows it."

"That's Blasphemy, Sam. There is no such thing as a bad Indiana Jones movie."

"Um, excuse me?" Natalie piped up from the backseat, her grin twisting sideways, as it always did. "Did you not see the last one?"

Dean looked in the rearview mirror to catch his daughter's snapping green eyes. "Welcome back to the land of the living," he said with a grin.

"Thanks," she said dryly.

"Natalie, tell your dad that he's wrong," Sam said.

"No thanks. I just got back to the land of the living. I don't want to die," she said, sassing her uncle as per usual. Sam rolled his eyes in response.

Dean arched his back proudly. "That's my girl," he said, grinning.

"Although I have to say, there are definite winners and losers in the Indiana Jones series. Raiders of the Lost Ark? Freaking brilliant."

"Nazi faces melting off- couldn't agree with you more," Dean said pleasantly.

"And of course- the Last Crusade."

"Holy Grail. Hot chick turns bad. Creepy old guard dude. Movie writing at its finest."

"But Kingdom of the Crystal Skulls? Come on. Sucked on all levels."

"You're grounded."

Natalie and Sam both snickered at that. "Trying to bring back Marion? And the whole subplot of having a kid now? Come on. You can't just change the plot line of a character you like and throw a kid in the mix just to make yourself feel better."

They all paused and thought for a good long moment about that.

"Anyways, it totally bombed. Yes, we respect it- it is Indy, after all."

"Damn straight."

"But they could have done better."

"They should have put a sex scene in there."

Natalie huffed in disgust. "Really Dad? Really?"

Dean shrugged and shot her his shit eating grin. "Abso-freaking-lutely."

"Oh my god. Could you be anymore gross."

"Give me a minute. I'm sure I can come up with something."

As disgusted as Natalie was at Dean's last comment, she felt an enormous wave of unexpected relief. Here she was, getting her normal conversation. Feeling like a real person, while on her way to help someone who desperately needed it. Her thoughts had once again tried to twist her towards the darkness, but her Dad and Uncle were there, pulling her back into the light without even knowing it.

*SPN SPN SPN*

They had checked in to the motel, gotten their stories straight, and headed off to the police station, posing as two FBI agents and of course, their trusty new intern. Natalie wondered to herself when she would be able to stop playing the "younger rookie" role. Her height was certainly working against her- she was only 5'1' to her father's 6'1 and her uncle's 6'5. She could have been seventy five and still looked like a kid next to them. However, when it came to the average middle aged sexually frustrated man that was usually tied up in one of these cases, she became anything but a kid. Much to her father's chagrin, she had definitely inherited his "way with the opposite sex". She had more discretion than Dean however. She rarely went on dates, and when she did, they never lasted long. She had never really found anyone that intrigued her enough to keep her attention longer than a couple hours face to face, or maybe a week's worth of text messaging- if they had a vocabulary that extended past the eighth grade. People might say she was waiting for "The Right One", but in reality, she was waiting for someone who could keep up.

The three Winchesters walked into the police station of Jackson County. Dean, as usual, was point on the case, so he strode up to the desk importantly, pulling out his fake badge. Sam and Natalie followed suit. Natalie decided that this particular character she would be playing today was going act bored by everything she saw. Usually, when people acted bored, others tended to write them off, thinking that they weren't observing their surroundings or the situation. In her case, it couldn't be further from the truth. Everyone else's indifference let her take advantage of her environment, wandering off, getting into places and things that other people wouldn't dare dream of. She was so incredibly good at silently slipping in and out of rooms, gathering intelligence, that she could sometimes even pull it off without Sam or even Dean noticing.

The receptionist behind the desk paged the lead detective on the murders, and they were now being escorted into his office. As usual, there were only two chairs in front of the detective's desk. Without even acknowledging it, Dean and Sam sat down, leaving Natalie to stand by the door, listening to any conversations that may be happening outside of the detective's office. The trick had come in handy more than once. No one ever seemed to question the "rookie" not taking a seat, even if she was a girl.

The lead homicide detective, a man named Dietrich, was leaning back in his wooden rolling chair. Natalie thought the office looked like it was right out of the set of "To Kill A Mockingbird". The old fashioned, dark wooden furniture, the dusty books- hell, there was even a slowly creaking overhead fan barely doing its job. She inwardly chuckled at it all, but kept her face smooth. She had had so many years of smothering her smiles, it came almost naturally now. Ever since she was twelve, and had made her first kill- a twisted former human who constantly told her what a great smile she had- she kept her smile in check. Came in handy for a hunter.

"Well, I don't rightly know now, fellas," the detective said, scratching his comb-over. He carefully patted it to make sure his scratching hadn't revealed the fact that he was balding, and dropped his hands back onto his weak thighs. "We thought at first that it was some serial killer- I mean, fits the pattern."

Sam nodded knowingly. "Yeah it does- except for the fact that all the people allegedly dropped dead at the exact same time. In broad daylight."

"Yeah, that's the tricky part," the detective agreed.

"The toxicology reports- was there anything interesting in there?" Dean asked, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. Detective Dietrich fished through the pile of manilla folders on his desk, looking for the correct papers. When he found them, he handed them over to Dean with a sigh.

"Nothing. The one older man, Mr. Dutcher, had been drinking earlier that day, but that was really it. The two women were clean. Not even aspirin in their systems."

Dean leaned back, and looked over his shoulder at Natalie, who was examining a picture on the detective's wall. "I think the kid and I may take a trip down to the morgue. See the vics for ourselves, if you don't mind." Natalie turned her head slightly to look at Dietrich, whose eyes flicked quickly to hers, and looked her up and down. Natalie bit her tongue- did every single middle aged man have to give her the once over like that? Dietrich nodded, and Natalie pushed the disgusting thought out of her head that he was nodding in response to his appraisal of her. The detective looked back at Dean.

"Not sure what you're going to find that we didn't, but knock yourselves out," the detective said. He reached out and pressed an intercom button on the desk phone. "Rachel?" he said, leaning down towards the phone. "Can you please let Will know that an Agent Radcliff and Agent Watson are on their way to him?"

"Sure thing," came the chirpy voice from his phone. Natalie resumed looking at the picture on the wall, which appeared to be photo of a parade float with several very gaudily dressed women on it.

"Those are our Sweet Potato Queens," Dietrich said proudly. Natalie's eyebrows flew up into her hairline. She turned towards the detective, praying that she could keep the calm mask of indifference in place.

"I'm sorry- the what?" she asked quietly.

"Sweet Potato Queens," he said. It didn't sound any less ridiculous the second time around. "They're these...GORGEOUS women who dress up in these crazy sparkly green dresses, and ride a big float every year in our Saint Patty's Day parade."

"Really," Natalie said, barely able to keep the ice out of her voice. Seriously? A detective had a picture of a bunch of middle aged women in Goodwill ball gowns on his office wall? What in the world was wrong with the south?

"They're big important people here in these parts," the detective said proudly. "If you look at that picture closely, Miss, you'll see that the Head Queen is blowing me a kiss." Dietrich sat up straighter in his chair, clearly still relishing that photographic moment. "Best day of my life," he sighed longingly.

"Wow. You all must really be strapped for entertainment in these parts, huh?" Dean said flatly. Natalie ducked her head down, as the giggle threatened to escape from her lips. She saw Sam lean over and grind his heel into her dad's toe. Dean shifted uncomfortably, and tried to subtly yank his foot out from under Sam's oppressing one. The detective just blinked at them all, as if he couldn't understand how they couldn't comprehend the enormity of a Sweet Potato Queen kiss.

"We should get going, Sir," Natalie said to Dean. He stood up, shot a quick glare at Sam as if to say, _you'll pay for that later_ , and with a polite nod at the detective, they left the office in search of the morgue. When they were gone, Sam scooted his chair closer to the desk.

"Detective Dietrich," he began. "Were there any links between the victims? Anything at all?"

"Nothing that we could find," the detective said wearily. "Mr. Dutcher was a loan officer at the local bank. He was almost about to retire. The other two victims, one was a housewife, and the other was a receptionist at the dentist's office."

"They didn't know each other, or have any mutual friends?"

"Nobody's come forward."

"Would any of them have enemies?"

"Well, Mr. Dutcher was a loan officer- he had been foreclosing on several houses recently. I mean, times being what they are and all. But I can't see that as a reason to want to kill him- the man was just doing his job. And the housewife- her name was Mrs. Ives. Susan. My wife was actually friends with her." At this, the detective bowed his head.

Sam smiled sympathetically. "I'm so sorry for yours and your wife's loss," he offered. Dietrich bobbed his head once in acknowledgment of Sam's words, and looked back up.

"Yeah, my wife- she's pretty torn up about it. Susan was a good friend. She was a good woman. I can't think of a single reason that someone would want to kill her."

"And the receptionist?"

"Young thing. About 20." When Sam heard her age, it was like an ice pick stabbed his heart. Natalie, his niece, was nineteen. He couldn't imagine her life ending so short, the way this poor girl's had. He mentally shook himself and tried to focus back on the detective. "She was working two jobs, paying her way through college. She had a boyfriend, but we brought him in for questioning already. The kid's a mess- we don't think he had anything to do with it. He's been released. Oh! I almost forgot!" the detective said, suddenly interrupting himself. "We've had a missing person's report that came through yesterday."

"Missing persons? Not a death? How do you think it's related to the murders then?" Sam asked, puzzled.

"Because it's a dental hygienist that works at the same location as the murdered receptionist."

Sam sat up, intrigued. "But she's just missing? There's been no signs of foul play or anything like that?" he pressed.

Dietrich bobbed his eyebrows once. "Just missing. Her roommate says she hasn't been seen for a few days now."

Sam nodded. He still couldn't see anything supernatural in this, but it certainly was strange. "Do you mind if I take these files to study?" he asked the detective, pointing at the victims' pile.

"Go ahead. And good luck. But I don't know what else there is to find. We're stumped." Sam gathered the files close to him, and made to stand up. The detective, however, had a different idea.

"Hey- this the first time you've ever been to Jackson County?" he asked, a conspiritory look in his eye.

"Uh, yes detective, it is," Sam said, wondering where Dietrich was going with this.

"So let me tell you all about the Sweet Potato Queens," Dietrich said gleefully. It wasn't often that new people came into town, not knowing about these wonderful beauties. He longed to talk about them, as if that would somehow bring them closer to him.

Sam just smiled weakly, knowing he was trapped.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Dean and Natalie were making their way to the crime lab/morgue. Apparently, in this district, they were one and the same. They had been told to ask for a Will- he was the one who had performed the autopsies. As they walked down the hall together, Dean muttered to Natalie out of the side of his mouth.

"You sure you're going to be okay on this?"

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "It means that I know how you get with the medical side of things." He grinned knowingly.

Natalie rolled her eyes. "Oh my god. Are you ever going to let that go?"

Dean chuckled. "Nope. It's not every day someone passes out cold at the sight of their own blood."

Natalie threw up her hands. "I was fourteen! It was the first time you ever sewed me up. And it's never happened since, not once. It was your fault for not preparing me properly."

"Oh, and a lifetime of training didn't prepare you enough?"

"Not when it comes to my father jabbing a needle through my skin."

"We probably shouldn't be talking about this. I don't want you to go all southern damsel on me while we're on a case."

Natalie just punched his arm in response. For being so little, she was surprisingly strong, and actually made Dean lose his balance for a split second.

"Hey. Punching your commanding officer is a felony, missy," he said with a taunting grin.

"Shut up," she said with a smothered laugh.

"Oh- by the way- what's up with the new names on the badges? I don't know any rock stars with the last names of Watson or Radcliff."

"That's because they're not rock stars. They're actors from Harry Potter."

That made Dean stop dead in his tracks. "Harry Potter? Seriously?"

Natalie shrugged. "I decided to change things up a bit."

Dean snorted and shook his head, continuing to walk. "Well, clearly I have failed as a father."

Just then, the two of them reached the door labeled "Crime Lab". Dean took the handle, then paused for a moment.

"Seriously. You okay?" he asked gruffly. Natalie's lips twisted to the side, attempting to hide her smile.

"I'm fine. A couple cadavers with no signs of damage whatsoever? Pfff," she said, blowing a raspberry. "I'm good." Dean just chuckled and shook his head. He pushed open the door to find a young man sitting behind a desk. His dark head was bent down, obsessively reading some report. They stood there for a moment, but the kid was so caught up in whatever it was he was reading, that he didn't notice. Dean cleared his throat, making the kid nearly jump out of his skin. Dean looked sideways at Natalie as if to say, _can you believe this?_ Natalie struggled to keep her face impassive. _Damn him for making me laugh,_ she thought to herself.

"Oh, err- sorry, I...um...didn't hear you come in," the boy said. Natalie turned to give him the typical reassuring smile to put him at ease, when she noticed his eyes. They were the most intriguing shade of dark blue- the hint of the universe of space. She didn't think she had ever seen such halting blue eyes before. She had always been a sucker for them. Her words immediately stuck in her throat. The boy looked back into her eyes, and, as if he was acting against his will, he stood up. That didn't help Natalie catch her breath at all. He was tall- taller than she expected him to be. He had apparently been slouching at his desk, betraying his physical form. He was lanky, but looked tough. His air evaporating eyes seemed to bore into hers. _I wouldn't mind if he gave me the once-over like the detective did,_ Natalie found herself thinking.

Dean wasn't completely oblivious to the tangible moment between the two. He had been trying, for his daughter' sake, to ease up on her when she found someone attractive, or wanted to go on a date, or whatever. The fact that he hadn't shoved her out of the room to get her out of the boy's sight was quite the accomplishment. However, they were here to do a job, and apparently, his daughter needed reminding of that. He reached over, put a finger under her chin, and shut her mouth. Natalie wasn't aware that it was even hanging open. She blushed furiously, and quickly looked at the ground. She could almost hear Dean yelling at her in her mind to get a grip, just from the look she knew he was shooting her way.

Dean pretended like nothing was amiss at all- like he walked around shutting his partner's mouth on a daily basis. He pulled out his badge, and Natalie, fumbling for a second, did the same.

"I'm Agent Radcliff, this is Agent Watson," Dean said, a hint of barely controlled rage in his voice now that he knew where those names came from. "We'd like to take a look at the three murder cases."

"Sure! Absolutely!" the young man said, tearing his gaze away from Natalie. "I'm Dr. William Macguire," he said, with a respectful nod to both of them.

"You're the pathologist?" Dean said, clearly stunned.

"Yes, sir," he said without missing a beat.

"Aren't you a little young to be a doctor?" Natalie said before she could bite the words back in. She suddenly felt flushed and stupid at the same time. He smiled at her. _Whoa,_ her estrogen flooded brain thought. His smile was almost as perfect as his eyes. Almost.

"I guess I could ask you the same question, Agent," he said, a charming lilt to his voice. To her absolute horror, a girlish giggle burst out of her lips, making her sound like she was five years old. Will just smirked and turned away from the desk, making his way towards the hallway, beckoning Dean and Natalie to follow. When he was sure Will's back was turned, Dean looked in amazement at Natalie, but she didn't look back. He could see the stunned, confused look on her face, trying to figure out how the hell SHE had just made that simpering, bubbly noise. He watched her shake her head once, then look at him. When she caught her father staring at her, she quickly mouthed, "Sorry," with a contrite look on her face.

And for once, instead of getting pissed, it made Dean grin. She was trying to keep her head in the game, and he was proud of her for that. But watching her flail like a schoolgirl for a second? That was hilarious.

They followed Will down the hall to the small, stark white examination room. It was actually a normal sized room, but with three different bodies, all on stretchers, plus a doctor and two FBI agents, the room seemed smaller than was typical. Will reached out and pulled the sterile white sheet from one of the victim's faces. The man underneath was an older man, around sixty. His white hair was a bit long for what one would expect from a senior loan officer at a bank. His face looked peaceful, serene even. Will continued to pull back the sheet, exposing the man to the waist.

"This is Mr. Dutcher. As you can see, there's absolutely no external signs of trauma, " Will said, a puzzled tone in his voice.

"And nothing came back on the toxicology reports?" Natalie said, all business. Dean was leaning in, trying to examine the body closer. Will shook his head.

"Absolutely nothing. From what we can tell, his heart just stopped."

"How unusual is that? For a man of his age?" Natalie asked.

Will shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time it's happened, but with the other two, it's practically unheard of." He gently placed the sheet over the man's face, and walked around the stretcher to the next body. Pulling back the white cloth, he revealed a blonde mess of curly hair, and a face that was too young to be in this place. He pulled the sheet only to her chest, keeping her naked form covered. Natalie took two seconds to appreciate his modesty for the young girl, even in death.

"Her name was Kaylee Costa. She was only twenty years old. I didn't know Miss Costa, but my friend AJ was dating her. She was a vegan, totally health conscious. There was nothing in any examination to indicate how she died."

"Her heart just stopped too," Natalie said woodenly. This was so unfair. Cut down in the prime of her life. Man, this job sucked sometimes.

"It's awful, isn't it?" Will said, as if in response to Natalie's thoughts. "She had so much potential. All the things that she ever wanted in her life. All the dreams she'll never get to discover." Natalie's eyes widened at Will's statement. She had never heard a medical examiner be anything but clinical and concise. The amount of compassion that was coming out of this man towards this victim was undeniable. And intriguing. Will swallowed hard, and looked back up at Dean and Natalie with an apologetic smile. "Sorry. Sometimes the job just sucks, you know?"

Both Dean and Natalie chuckled in response, nodding their heads simultaneously, as they were wont to do. Will started for a moment at seeing the two of them move in sync, but quickly shook it off. He covered Kaylee back up, and turned to the last stretcher. He was about to pull the sheet from the woman's face, but then stopped and turned to them.

"Did you want to see Mrs. Ives? It's fine if you do, but there's just nothing on her," Will said. Dean shook his head.

"No thanks, Doctor, we're okay. I'd like to take a look at your autopsy reports, though," Dean said gruffly. Will bobbed his head once in acknowledgment of Dean's request.

"Be right back," he said. He turned and walked out the door into the hallways. When his footsteps faded into the distance, Natalie quickly turned and pulled the sheet down on Mrs. Ives. Like Will had said, there was absolutely nothing. Just a poor, forty something year old housewife. Dean was still leaning in close to the body of Mr. Dutcher. Natalie checked Mrs. Ives' eyes and mouth, but they were all intact. No burn marks, no extra teeth, there weren't even any scratches on the woman.

"I don't get it," she mused quietly. "There's absolutely nothing here. No signs of anything at all." She turned around. Dean wasn't paying attention to her- he was sniffing.

"Do you smell that?" he asked. She walked back to the stretcher.

"Is it sulfur?" she asked, leaning down towards the body.

"No," Dean said, unsure of what he was smelling. He took another deep breath, as did Natalie. She didn't get anything, but Dean's brow was still wrinkled in confusion.

"It's like..." he trailed off. His eyes suddenly went wide, and he looked at Natalie.

"Like what?" she pressed.

"This is going to sound insane."

"More insane than 'we hunt monsters for a living'?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "It smells like...apple pie."

Natalie blinked twice. "You're right. That's more insane."

"Shut up. Get down here."

She leaned in closer, and inhaled again. She still didn't catch anything. She moved to the stretcher holding Kaylee, leaned down, and, feeling like an idiot, inhaled deeply. This time, however, she caught the scent of something fruity.

"Whoa," she said quietly. "Got it on this one." Dean rushed over to Mrs. Ives, and inhaled.

"Yup. Her too," he said in a low tone. Just then, Will walked back into the room, a stack of files in his hands. He handed them off to Dean.

"Thanks," he said gruffly. He looked back and forth between Natalie and Will for a moment. "I'm going to go check up on Agent Grint, you come on out when you've finished up here," he said to Natalie. Her eyes widened for a second. Was her father actually leaving her alone for a moment with a man? This had to be one for the record books. He turned, leaving his stunned daughter with the young doctor. If this didn't get him out of a few years of purgatory, nothing would, he thought to himself.

Natalie walked out of the room just in time to see her father exiting the crime lab. She couldn't believe her good luck. "So," she said, trying desperately to come up with something more than "So". Her brain failed her spectacularly. Will, however, came to the rescue.

"So- how does such a young, pretty thing like you get tied up in the FBI?" he asked, his charm turned on full blast. Natalie's grin twisted off to the side, purely out of reflex, and her brain gave a tiny sigh of relief. Okay, she was back in control now.

"Graduated early. My father was an FBI detective. Just wanting to follow in the old man's footsteps," she said, a hint of pride in her voice. Will smiled. Natalie couldn't help but notice the small gap in between his two front teeth. Rather than making him look bucktoothed, it, along with the eyes, smile, and voice, was charming. "And you?" she said, turning her own charm on. It had an immediate effect on the young man, even with just two words. He seemed to grow a bit taller.

"I'm actually a lot older than I look. Or so I've been told," he said, chuckling.

"Really? Let me guess...you're twenty five?" she said.

"Darn. So close. Twenty six."

"Ooo, you're right. Ancient."

Will laughed at her teasing, which made her feel taller too. "I wish. It's hard being young in this field. I'm sure you get all kinds of crap for your age, too."

"You don't know the half of it."

"Well, I'd love to find out sometime. If you're free for coffee or whatever. You know, between chasing down these murderers and all."

Natalie's breath caught in her throat again, but this time, she kept herself in check. She smoothly pulled out a business card case out of her back pocket, subtly letting her hand slide over her hip and side before popping the case open. She grinned, noticing Will's eyes scanning her hips, then quickly looking away. She withdrew one of the fake business cards with her real cell number on it.

"I'm sure I can find the time," she said in a low, sweet tone. She extended the card to him. "Give me a call. You know, if you figure out what actually killed these people or something," she teased.

He smiled charmingly. "I'll be sure to," he breathed. Natalie's eyes closed for a second, imagining that husky voice close to her mouth. _Holy crap, keep it in your pants, Winchester,_ she suddenly scolded herself. With one more smile, she turned and left the young doctor in the hallway.

*SPN SPN SPN*

They were on the way back to the motel, hands loaded down with manilla folders and files, all containing the single fact of "cause of death unknown".

"Are we even sure this is us?" Sam was asking. "I mean, yeah, it's weird that three people dropped dead for no reason whatsoever, but come on- there isn't a single bit of evidence of anything supernatural here."

Dean was shaking his head. "Call it a gut feeling."

"A gut feeling?" Sam asked, disbelievingly.

Dean nodded. "I second that," Natalie piped up from the backseat, where she was poring over the files.

Sam shrugged despondently. "Fine. But if this doesn't come to anything in a couple days, we're out of here."

"Fine," Dean growled. He turned into the motel, parking the Impala carefully by their door. The Winchesters loaded their arms up with the reports. Sam was the first through the door, and just as Natalie was about to walk through, Dean's voice stopped her.

"Hey- don't I even get a thank you for leaving you alone with Dr. Hot Stuff?" he teased. Natalie had to laugh at that one.

"First off- thank you. Second off- who are you and what have you done with my father?"

Dean shrugged playfully. "I liked him. He called me "sir"."

"I call you "sir"."

"That's because you know I'd kick your ass if you didn't."

"Seriously though? You liked him?"

"Yeah. He seems like a genuine good guy. Not like that douche bag in the last town we were at."

"Alex wasn't a douche bag!"

"Squirt, he practically had "douche bag" tattooed on his forehead."

"Whatever."

"I'm just saying, I think your choice in men is getting better. Must be all my good influence."

"That's undoubtedly it."

"You have my permission to go out with him."

"What is this, 1920?"

"Never mind. Permission revoked."

"Aw, come on!"

"Fine. When he asks you, you say yes."

"What makes you so sure he's going to ask me out?"

"Kiddo, I know that look he was giving you. Hell, I invented that look."

"I cannot believe you are being so calm about this."

"Well, like I said, he seems like an upstanding guy. Not to mention, if he tries anything physical with you, you'll suddenly think about the fact that all he does all day is touch dead bodies, and that will be the end of that."

"Oh, gross! Now that's all I'm going to be thinking of."

Dean just grinned in response, and walked past her through the open door. Natalie shook her head. Trust her father to always win when it came to her dating. She plopped the files down on the coffee table in the motel room. Suddenly, her phone buzzed with a text alert. She fished the phone out of her pocket, and opened the message.

 _*Hey- it's Will. I was wondering if you could take a break from the crime solving tomorrow night. Nothing like a good cup of joe to keep the murder theories coming*_

Natalie grinned to herself. Will's profession was the last thing on her mind when it came to him.


	19. Everything You Ever Part 2

**Happy Sunday, beautiful SPN Family! I hope you're well and enjoying your weekend! I'm not going to blab too much here, we'll get right down to business. I would be amiss if I didn't give a shout out to my girl, Jenmm31. Best. Beta. Ever. Just saying. Alright, people you know the drill! Read, review (please!) and enjoy!**

 **A/N- this is part 2 of a 3 part case story. If you haven't read the chapter before this one, please do, otherwise it ain't gonna make a lick of sense. In this story, Natalie is 19. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

Natalie grinned as she looked at the message. She couldn't believe Will had texted her so soon. Dean caught the look on her face, and immediately knew what was up.

"Well, that didn't take long," he muttered to himself. Sam turned his head towards his brother, wanting to know what that was about. Dean looked at Sam, but shook his head. _Not now,_ his gaze said. Sam bobbed his eyebrows once in surprise, but didn't press the matter. He instead started sorting through the piles of paperwork that they had collected from the police station.

"Alright, so there has got to be something connecting these three victims," Sam mused. He opened his laptop and fired it up. "Did you guys find anything in the morgue?" he asked, looking from father to daughter.

Dean shrugged. "No signs of any damage on the bodies. But there was one weird thing."

"And that was?" Sam asked, sitting up in earnest.

"They...and this is going to sound bat crap crazy...but they smelled like apple pie."

Sam's eyebrows furrowed, not quite believing what he was hearing. "I'm sorry...they...what?"

"Smelled like freaking apple pie, Sam," Dean said, embarrassed at how crazy it sounded, even to his own ears.

"It's not crazy," Natalie said soothingly, as if she could read Dean's thoughts. "I smelled it on the girl, and you caught the scent on both the older people. It was weird, but it was definitely there." Natalie turned to look at Sam. "Is there any kind of poison that gives off an apple scent?"

"Well, we know where you're starting your research," Dean interrupted before Sam could speak. Natalie just snorted in response, and pulled her laptop out of her own bag. She plopped down on her dad's bed, sitting cross legged. Dean shot her a glare.

"Please. Make yourself at home," he said, a touch of humor in his annoyed voice.

"Thanks!" she replied back sweetly.

Dean rolled his eyes as Sam laughed at her antics. "Did all three of the victims smell the same? Like had the same scent?" Sam asked, still chortling a bit.

Dean nodded, and then shrugged. "Well, the two that I got a whiff of did. Nat? The girl- she smelled-"

"Like apples," Natalie said, not looking up. Dean raised his eyebrows, and turned to Sam, confirming it. Sam shook his head.

"Apples. Apples. Do you know of any lore involving apples?"

Dean looked insulted. "Me? Know fruit? You must be joking." Dean shook his arms, like he was trying to get rid of anything healthy that may have entered his system. "Unless it's in pie, I don't even acknowledge that it exists."

Sam's face fell into bitch mode. "Well, looks like you know where YOU'RE starting your research," he taunted his brother. Dean just huffed, and started pulling their lore books out of one of their bags. Sam began flipping through the piles of paper they had gathered. For the longest time, there was no sound in the room but the clicking of a keyboard, the occasional flip of a page, and the concentrated breathing of three hunters determined to find answers.

"Hey- check this out," Natalie said suddenly, breaking the silence. Both Dean and Sam looked up. "This druid website is talking all about the different meanings of apples in different cultures. A lot of them are related to demonic possession and witchcraft rituals."

"I thought you were researching poisons?" Sam said, a stern edge to his voice. Natalie had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes. He still sounded the same as when he would catch her playing on the computer instead of doing her homework.

"That was a dead end," she replied, keeping her tone even. "Sometimes poison gas smells like rotten apples, but that would leave traces in the victim's blood work, and, if you remember, all the toxicology reports came back totally clean. So no go on poisons." She hunched down, reading the small print on the website. "But there's a lot of crap about apples, all over ancient history. There's an apple tree in the Garden of Hesperidies on Mount Olympus, but it's not supposed to have any magical qualities. In Polish lore, they believed that putting an apple under your pillow could induce dreams about the future."

"So we could be dealing with some sort of witch scryer maybe? Or a psychic looking for answers about the future?"

"Maybe. But doubtful. How could a psychic kill 3 people at the same time?"

"Beats me. But a witch could do it."

"Man, I freaking HATE witches."

"Well, then let's hope that's not what it is." Natalie kept scrolling. "In European folklore, they said that giving enchanted apples to a person could cause demonic possession."

"I think we need to pay a visit to these victims' murder sites- see if we can find any apples shoved in places they shouldn't be, you know?" Dean said. Sam nodded his assent.

"It's worth a shot. Does the website say anything else?" Sam asked his niece. She squinted at the laptop, and continued to scroll.

"In Druid culture, apples were thought to keep people young."

"Well, seeing as all the victims are dead now, I'd say Druids are probably not involved," Dean threw out casually. Natalie's smile twisted to the side.

"There's the Judeo-Christian thought of the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil being an apple tree."

"Yeah, but wasn't that actually a more modern religious convection?" Sam asked, trying to remember. "Wasn't it originally thought to be like a fig tree or something?"

"Exactly right," Natalie said, smiling at her uncle, then looking back down at the computer. "They changed it to an apple tree in the earlier part of the nineteenth century; they thought it would be more relatable to the masses." She shook her head. "I really don't know, guys. I mean, the whole apple thing is kind of a wild goose chase here."

"Well, we don't have any better leads to go on," Dean said, standing up and putting his jacket on. "Alright. Sam and I are going to go check out this dentist's office, see if we can find anyone who's seen the missing girl, or knew the receptionist."

Natalie looked up with a huff. "Why can't I go?" she asked. Dean snickered to himself. She had no idea how much she sounded like a four year old version of herself when she said that. But he had a plan to erase that pouting look.

"Because I need you to break into the loan officer's business accounts," Dean said, a smug grin on his face. Yup- sure enough, Natalie's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree when he said that. She was a computer hacking genius, and loved a good challenge. The higher the Firewall, the better, in her opinion. "See if you can find anything that means the old guy was up to something."

"With pleasure," Natalie said, the evil grin spreading on her face. "You got an email address for me?" she asked Sam. Sam fished through the papers for a moment, then came up with Dutcher's file. He handed it over.

"Thank you," she said, immediately flipping it open, and beginning the search. Sam and Dean headed for the door.

"Oh, and don't forget to return that text," Dean threw over his shoulder at Natalie. She couldn't help the stupid grin that spread across her face.

"I will, don't worry," she said reassuringly.

"Don't keep him waiting," he pressed. She finally looked up, the grin still firmly in place. Dean smiled- it was so rare she let her guard down enough to actually smile- he treasured when it happened.

"I am trying to work, and you keep distracting me with dating advice? Seriously- did hell freeze over when I wasn't looking or something?" she teased.

Dean shrugged, still thrilled to his core that she was actually smiling, but kept his face stoic, as usual. "Come on. I'm the king of dating. You could do a lot worse than taking advice from me."

Sam stopped, and turned. "How the hell could she do worse than listening to you for dating advice?"

"She could take dating advice from YOU."

*SPN SPN SPN*

Sam and Dean walked through the door of the dentist's office. Sam looked around, surprised at the interior decorations. The office had a distinct "beach" feel to it. The walls were covered in pictures of sailboats, the ocean, and various coral reefs. The wooden floor below was the bleached white normally found on old Floridian porches, and the seats matched the ocean blue paint on the walls.

The boys walked up to the reception desk, where a young man was sitting. "Can I help you?" he asked.

Sam and Dean pulled their fake badges out. Sam thought he saw the receptionist's eyes flash with a bit of panic when he saw "FBI" plastered on the IDs, but it was quickly replaced with a smooth face. "We'd like to ask a few questions about your former employee, Kaylee Costa."

"I'm new here- I didn't really know her. This is only my first week," the kid said, a little too quickly. Sam and Dean exchanged a brief glance. "I'm Ryan. Ryan Pearson. I'm a student at MCC, I just started here." Sam's brain clicked at the mention of the college.

"MCC? Isn't that the same college that Kaylee went to?" Sam asked quietly. The boy fidgeted for a moment before answering.

"Yeah, but I didn't know her. Never met her before in my life," Ryan said in a rush, then folded his arms tightly across his chest. Dean raised his eyebrows and nodded his head. He didn't believe this kid for a moment, but it was clear Ryan was on the verge of clamming up. Dean didn't really want to get into an altercation in the middle of a dentist's office with a pimple popper.

"Can you get us someone who did know Kaylee then, sport?" Dean said in a patronizing tone. Sam inhaled slowly. Hadn't Dean learned his lesson in the sheriff's office?

Ryan jumped up right away. "Of course, officers."

"Detectives," Dean corrected.

The kid stopped awkwardly and turned around. "What?"

"We're detectives," Dean said a bit louder. How stupid was this guy?

"Oh. Okay," Ryan said with a rude shrug, before turning and walking away. Dean was thoroughly annoyed by this time. _Arrogant bastard,_ he thought. He turned to Sam and, without any preamble at all, smacked him on the back of the head.

"Ouch! What the hell, Dean?" Sam said, jerking away from his big brother.

"That's for stepping on my foot in the sheriff's office earlier," Dean growled.

"That was hours ago, you jerk."

"Well, I forgot about it until right now," Dean shot back, then started looking around the room. His eyes landed on a gigantic fish tank on the back wall of the waiting room. "Dude- check it out," Dean said, walking over to the glass enclosure, all animosity towards Sam forgotten. He moved his face close to the glass; so close, his nose was almost touching it. A brightly colored fish swam boldly right up to his reflection. "Look at this one! I think it likes me," he said with a self satisfied grin. He began imitating the fish, making the same puckered kissing face it was. "Are you seeing this?" Dean asked excitedly, then turned to Sam. He was surprised to see the confused and annoyed look on his brother's face. "What?" he said broadly.

"Dude."

"What?"

"Men over forty shouldn't be that into fish. It's weird."

"So?"

Sam just shook his head, and watched Dean turn back to the tank, his eyes following his new fish friend. Just then, the door to the back offices open. Dean straightened up quickly, smoothing out the lower part of his monkey suit. The dentist walked towards them, hand extended. Dean liked the look of this guy. He had a rather avuncular feel to him- middle aged, just a bit overweight, but a full head of hair and a large, perfectly white smile. Dean randomly wondered if there was such as thing as a dentist with bad teeth.

"Gentlemen- I'm Dr. Wilder. Ryan told me you were from the FBI?" he said in a pleasant voice.

"Yes, sir," Sam said, while he and Dean pulled the badges back out. "We'd like to ask you a few questions about some of your former employees." Dr. Wilder nodded sadly.

"What a shame," he said, his eyes filling with tears. "Kaylee was such a wonderful girl. I sincerely hope you gentlemen are able to find Debra before something awful happens to her as well." Sam nodded- Debra was the name of the missing dental hygienist.

"That's what we're hoping as well, sir," he said reassuringly. "Tell me- before either of the women went missing, did you notice any strange behavior from either one of them?"

"Strange? Like how strange?" Dr. Wilder asked, confused.

"Like sudden mood swings, short tempers, that kind of thing?" Sam offered, trying to offer suggestions that would clue them in if the women had become possessed.

But Dr. Wilder was shaking his head. "No, not really. I mean, Debra kind of kept to herself, but she was always like that. Kind of a loner, that one. Now Kaylee, she was a ray of sunshine. She was always asking how your day was, wanting you to tell her every detail of your life, because she genuinely cared." The dentist's began to well up again. He paused for a moment, and reached in his coat for a tissue to blow his nose. "Excuse me, fellas," he said huskily.

"Take your time," Dean said, not unkindly. The dentist blew, and quickly stuffed the tissue back in the pocket. He cleared his throat, and continued. He nodded and smiled at the Winchesters, indicating that he was ready to go on talking.

"Were you and Kaylee close?" Sam asked.

"Not really outside of work. But she was just such a sweetheart. When I was going through a bout of lung cancer, everyday, she'd ask how I was doing, what she could do to help. I really believe that her support is a big part of the reason why I'm still here today." Sam nodded. Again, the disturbing thought of how much this girl really did sound like Natalie was growing in his mind. The thought of losing Natalie like this poor girl was more than he could take. He wasn't sure how life would continue on- she had altered them both so completely. The dentist continued, completely unaware of Sam's thoughts. "I do know that she and Debra were getting close, though."

"Oh really? And how do you know that?" Dean asked, leaning back casually in his chair.

"They were always taking their lunch break together. Any time I'd walk into the break room and see them together, they'd be talking in hushed voices. They'd clam up completely when I walked in, but they'd still be perfectly sweet to me."

"Any idea what they were talking about?"

"Well, the rumor going around the rest of the staff was that Debra had found herself a boyfriend."

"Why wouldn't she want to talk about that?"

"Because the rumor was that the boyfriend was married." Dean and Sam both straightened up at that. Now they were getting somewhere.

"Any idea who this guy may be?" Sam asked. The dentist shook his head.

"Like I said, they both clammed up the second I walked in. The rest of the girls on staff were just falling over themselves, trying to figure out who it was," Dr. Wilder explained with a chuckle. Sam and Dean exchanged a significant look.

"Last question- did you smell or feel anything strange in the weeks leading up to the murder and disappearance?" Sam asked casually.

"Cold spots, smell of rotten eggs, anything like that?" Dean added. Once again, the dentist shook his head, looking thoughtful.

"Nope- can't say there was anything strange- feeling around here. As for smells- one of the girls did decide to burn a new candle or something, but I never saw it, only smelled it. It was kind of nice," he said, remembering. Sam and Dean leaned forward, encouraging the dentist to go on. "Like apples."

Yahtzee.

*SPN SPN SPN*

"You are not going to believe what I found!" Natalie sang out as Sam and Dean walked through the door of their motel room. She was still at her laptop, wriggling around like a two year old who had been told to stay still.

Dean yanked off his jacket and loosened his tie, making his way over to her. "What'd you find?" he asked.

"So this Dutcher- the loan officer at the bank? He made several loans to people who were using false names."

"How did you find that?" Sam asked incredulously, pulling his shoes off.

"It's all in his email. Well, his personal email- after I hacked his work one and found all the files, it was no problem finding his personal email and tearing it up."

Dean smiled proudly. "Alright Miss Nancy Drew of the Hacking World- show your work."

Natalie clicked on a tab. An entire list of email to one address came up. Dean leaned in for a closer look. "Who is DBSMan01?" he asked, reading the email address. He stood up and looked at Sam. "Drive-by-shooting man?"

Sam thought a moment. "Delta Bravo Sierra Man?" he offered.

"Dough Boy Soon Man?"

"Dull Boring Stupid Man?"

"Are you two done?" Natalie asked, annoyed. The brothers grinned at each other, and focused back on her. "It belongs to a Mr. Robert Ives. I'm not sure what the email address stands for- although you two gave some _fantastic_ guesses," she said sarcastically. "He was under the fake name David Collins in Mr. Dutcher's loan records."

"Ives, Ives..." Dean mused, rubbing his hand along his jaw as he started to pace the room. "Isn't that the last name of one of the victims? Ives?"

Sam snapped his fingers and pointed. "Yeah- the, uh...the housewife. Friend of the sheriff's wife. Susan Ives."

Natalie began furiously typing, and was quickly rewarded by a ping from her search. "Sure enough. Robert and Susan Ives, married in 1981, no kids."

"Did you find out why he had a loan under a fake name?" Sam asked.

Natalie shook her head. "Nope. It seems that for all the care Dutcher DIDN'T put into keeping his email safe, he certainly made up for it in code speak in the email. He never comes right out and says what it's all about. But it's clear- he was blackmailing Robert, saying that if he didn't pay back the loan, PLUS added interest, Dutcher was going to spill his secret."

"So we got one guy connected to two of the murder victims- this Robert Ives- he's worth checking out," Dean said. Natalie checked her phone, and stood up.

"It'll have to be tomorrow- I've got a date tonight," she said, a smirk on her face. Dean took a deep breath, and returned a genuine smile.

"Glad you returned his text," he said. He made a note to pick himself up a congratulatory pie for keeping his cool AND supporting his daughter on this date.

"And well done not freaking out," she said back, teasing him. He tried to suppress his smile, but failed.

"Alright, squirt- be back by midnight," he said, then turned towards his bed to go sit. Natalie laughed.

"Come on, Dad, I'm nineteen. Legally an adult. You can't give me a curfew anymore."

Dean slowly turned back to her, and gave her The Eye- the same one that had over the years instantly made her fall in line with whatever he said more times than he could count. It did not fail now. He watched as his daughter's eyes grew wide- she knew better than to question him, even if she was "legally an adult" now.

"Midnight it is, sir," she said, gulping. He gave her a self satisfied grin, and tossed her a small object. She caught it perfectly, and opened her palm to examine what it was. When she saw it, she gasped. "Seriously?" she whispered, disbelieving. "You're letting me take the Impala tonight?"

"Treat her good," Dean said with a casual shrug. Natalie wasn't fooled- she knew how insane her father was about this car. This was monumental- the fact that not only was he staying calm about her going out, but he was letting her drive Baby. Gratitude and giddiness bubbled up inside of her, and she launched herself into his arms, nearly knocking him over. Once Dean caught his breath from the force of her assault, he just grinned and patted her on the back. After a moment, he held her away at a distance. "Midnight," he repeated, sternly.

"Yes sir," she said, giving him a rare smile, but smothering it just as quickly as it came. "Hey."

"I know. You too."

"I know." Dean let her go with a sigh. He wanted to see her smile again- for real. Someday he would.

"Make sure the guy treats you right, too," Sam threw at her, with a smile. She waltzed over to her uncle, pressing her lips together in amusement.

"You bet I will," she said, then hugged Sam hard around his middle. He squeezed her back, then held her away just as Dean had done.

"Good. Otherwise, we'll be waiting," he said.

"With loaded shotguns," Dean growled from his bed.

"I'd expect nothing less," Natalie giggled. She started walking towards the door.

"Cell phone?" Dean called out. She picked up her purse which was on a chair by the door, and held it overhead as confirmation that the phone was in there. She walked out the door, turned, blew a kiss at both of them, and then made her way towards the Impala.

Dean couldn't help it- he couldn't stay casual any longer. He bolted off the bed, and made it to the window, just in time to see her take off out of the parking lot. He put his left elbow up, bent, against the window, sighing. He knew she was growing up- hell, she HAD grown up- but that knowledge never made it any easier whenever he watched her leave. He knew that she rarely went on dates, and it wasn't because the guys weren't looking at her; she was just not willing to give her heart to just anyone- it had to be someone special. That thought gave Dean a rare moment of peace, but at the same token, made him sad, just a little bit. He wanted her to find love and to be happy, even if that meant eventually leaving the hunter's life. He knew that she was determined to never do that, but he also knew the temptation to just walk away- to try to have a normal life- was strong. He knew she was a smart kid, and he trusted her with his life, but he also wanted what was best for her, even if that meant that she wouldn't be with him anymore. And that thought made him more than a little sad. He continued staring out of the window, long after she and the car had disappeared. He didn't know how long he stood there, until suddenly, Sam was beside him. He turned to look at his little brother. Sam had a sympathetic look on his face, and a tumbler of whiskey in both hands. He held one out to Dean, who took it, gratefully. They both stood, sipping in silence, lost in their own thoughts.

*SPN SPN SPN*

At seven o' clock on the dot, Natalie pulled up to the restaurant that Will had made a reservation at. She was surprised to see it was a barbecue joint, but hey- this was the South after all. Will was standing in front of the restaurant, waiting for her. His eyes widened when he saw the car.

"Wow," he whistled appreciatively when she walked up to him. She grinned.

"'67 Chevy Impala. Best car God ever created," she said, giving Baby an affectionate grin.

Will smiled and ducked his head. "It's a great car, but that's not what I was 'wow'-ing at." It took Natalie longer than she'd like to admit to realize he was talking about her. He gestured with his hand towards the door. They walked side by side, until he stepped forward to open the door for her. Natalie checked that off the list in her head- _opens doors_. Sam had taught her all about how a lady should be treated while on a date, and she had never forgotten that lesson. So far, Will was making the cut.

When they walked inside, Natalie almost stepped back for a moment in surprise before grabbing a quick hold on herself. This place was rather nice- for a barbecue joint. She was looking around in wonder.

"This is...unexpected," she said, with a sideways grin. Will laughed.

"I know, right? Barbecue joint that's actually not a crap hole?" he joked. Natalie snorted a laugh in response. "It is the South, after all," he continued, putting an exaggerated drawl into his words. Natalie laughed outright at that- it had been her exact thought pulling up to the place. It also made her feel a tiny bit giddy that he had the same thought that she did. When the hostess seated them at the table, Will, being the perfect gentleman, held her chair out for her. _Holds chairs-_ Natalie checked off in her head. Uncle Sam would be proud.

"This is way better than coffee," she said as Will sat down.

"Just wait till you try it- for being in Jackson County, Missouri, this place gives Mississippi barbecue a run for its money," Will said proudly.

"Really? I don't know- I've had some pretty amazing barbecue from Mississippi," she said with a sassy grin.

"Trust me- you haven't even lived yet," Will said, with his own sassy smile. Natalie melted a bit. The waitress came and took their orders. While they waited for their food, they began just chatting, getting to know each other. Natalie had her back story down pat, and had so for years, so each and every detail that Will pried her for was in place. And he pried more than anyone ever had before. She found herself thinking that no guy had ever actually asked her this much about herself before. He wanted to know details that she had only ever thought of when she was bored. And he was genuinely interested. Once that thought hit, she self consciously went into her own protective mode, asking about him instead. Besides, she really wanted to know all about him. She had been searching for someone to intrigue her, and there was a chance that he was sitting across the table from her, right now.

He told her all about medical school, about how he had decided to go into forensics and pathology from watching crime shows on TV. It seems he had been alone a lot as a child- he had two older siblings who were supposed to be in charge of taking care of him while their parents worked non-stop, but in reality, they had fought more with each other than taken care of him. Natalie's heart twisted as she imagined a four year old Will, left all alone, no one to play with, let alone talk to, except the TV. It suddenly occurred to her how lucky she was. She had always had her dad, her uncle, and, until recently, her surrogate grandfather. She had really never known what is was like to be lonely. Sure, she had been left on her own plenty of times when she was a kid, but she knew someone was always coming back for her. She reached out her hand to Will across the table. He stopped talking when she suddenly covered his fingers with her own. His stunning blue eyes found hers, and the tangible moment between the two was unmistakable.

They continued to talk, sharing everything from favorite movies (they had quite the discussion on Star Wars vs. Avengers) to childhood homes (Will had grown up in a split level just outside of Jackson County, Natalie completely made something up) to who the best James Bond really was (that one didn't last long- they both agreed with each other completely). They talked hour after hour, laughing, and just enjoying each other's company, until they were the last two in the restaurant. When it finally dawned on Natalie that they had closed the place down, she stood up quickly.

"We should get going, otherwise the manager's going to kick us out and ruin this very fine evening," she said with a giggle. Will laughed and stood up, collecting his credit card ( _paid for dinner,_ she checked off) and once again, held the front door for her as they exited. They both walked slowly towards the Impala, dragging their feet. When they finally reached the car, Natalie turned to him, a gentle and sincere smile on her face.

"I really hate for this evening to be over," she said boldly. Will smiled- it was exactly what he'd been hoping to hear.

"Who says it has to be?" he said, almost in a whisper. She cocked her head to one side, grinning impishly.

"Where did you have in mind?"

Will looked at the Impala. "Are you okay driving somewhere? I walked over, and the place that I want to show you is a bit of a hike."

"Hop in."

About ten minutes later, they pulled up to an old park towards the outskirts of town. There was a dilapidated playground that, judging from the height of the weeds, hadn't been used in a while. They pulled right up to the back edge of the parking lot, where the park opened upon a large field. The twilight blue of the gentle night was soothing and magical. The field smelled of wildflowers and wind. When they climbed out of the car, Natalie looked up and gasped. She had never seen so many stars at one time. The ink blue curved sky was sprinkled with the dancing lights. Usually, the stars were hard to see in the glare of the neon coming off of the motel signs. Even at Bobby's, or at the bunker, the stars didn't look as close or inviting as they did, in this moment. Natalie and Will climbed onto the hood of the Impala, Natalie sitting cross legged, Will, with his elbows on his knees.

For a long time, they just didn't speak. They simply stared at the beautiful specks of twinkling lights in the sky. Suddenly, a falling star shot across the sky. Natalie thought with humor to herself- _I hope that's not one of the angels I know._

"Make a wish," Will said quietly, not looking at her, still gazing at the sky. Natalie thought for a moment, then turned to Will.

"Got it. And I know that I'm not supposed to tell, but that'll be counterproductive," she said in a teasing tone.

"Well, now you have to tell me," he said, his mouth twisting in amusement.

"Alright. You asked for it," she said, still thrilled that she was on a date with someone who didn't even so much as blink when she used the word 'counterproductive'. It was so nice being able to talk to a guy who was actually intelligent- and not related to her. "I wish that you know what an amazing night you've given me," she said simply. He stilled for a moment, then turned and looked at her. Even in the all encompassing twilight evening, she could still make out the fathomless blue of his eyes.

"I feel the same way, Natalie," he said quietly, his voice almost caressing her name. She felt a little thrill at hearing it. He leaned in, not all the way, but just enough to let her make the choice. She leaned over and kissed him, gently. When they parted after a moment, he let out a deep breath.

"Wow," he said to himself, clearly smitten with her. Natalie blushed and looked down.

"I don't usually kiss on the first date, just so you know," she said, a joking tone creeping into her voice, which Will caught immediately.

"When do you usually kiss? What number date?" he asked with a grin.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe like the second or third," she said nonchalantly. The truth was, they had never stayed in one place long enough for her to have a third date. She had kissed a handful of guys, but none of them like Will. This guy was...intriguing.

"Geez- you move at a snail's pace," he complained, but couldn't keep the grin from his voice. She giggled in response. "Okay, but seriously," he said, then paused.

"What?" she asked.

"This is really forward of me, and forgive me if I'm inappropriate, but how on Earth are you single?" That made Natalie laugh out loud.

"You're joking, right?"

"No way. I've never met anyone like you. I've been with plenty of girls..." he trailed off, then looked at her, realizing what he'd just said. "Oh my god. I'm so sorry, that was just the worst thing I could ever have said."

Natalie chuckled a bit. "Well, it wasn't the best, but it wasn't the worst."

He breathed a sigh of relief. "Well, I meant it as a compliment. You're so...clever. You use actual vocabulary words when you talk. You know what you like and what you don't. And quite frankly, you're beautiful. How the crap did I get so lucky?"

"Maybe I was just waiting for someone like you," she said, her insides shaking a bit. She had NEVER said anything like that before, and she wasn't sure if it was too forward to say now, but there was no turning back. Will was still staring at her. For two seconds, her heart stopped, thinking she had blown the whole thing. But then a slow smile crept over his face.

"Well, I'm here now," he said, and leaned in again. This time, he didn't pause- he went right in for the kiss. And she let him. After another moment (a very wonderful moment, to Natalie's way of thinking), he pulled away, but remained close by her side. They sat in a comfortable, sweet silence for a long time. Natalie finally leaned her head down onto his shoulder, snuggling into his warmth. He turned his face towards her and kissed the top of her head. She gave a contented sigh.

"Okay, I have to know," he said finally, as if he couldn't take the waiting any more. She sat up, looking him in the eyes. He took a deep breath, and plunged ahead. "No one has ever...captured your heart before?"

Natalie sat back a bit. "This is the kind of thing you ask on a first date?" she said, teasing, but with a hint of sarcasm. In truth, no one had. She had never gone too far with anyone, not trusting anyone to betray her. She had kept a small portion of her heart locked, but here Will was, wanting to know what was inside that portion. And on the first date, no less. In response to her question, he shrugged.

"This doesn't feel like a first date to me. Does it to you?" he asked, scooting closer to her. Natalie shook her head slightly- it was as if he was reading her thoughts. She felt like she had known him for lifetimes before.

"No. No it doesn't," she agreed. She found herself being drawn into him, falling slowly. She wasn't sure she wanted to stop falling. All she wanted to do was hang on to this falling. His words poured out of him like a fountain.

"You're amazing, Natalie. I can't believe no one has reached out to pluck you from the vine yet." He leaned in, even closer. Natalie could feel his breath, warm against her ear. "To have someone who cares, someone who respects you, and admires you, and you can trust- that's just the best feeling in the universe." He wrapped his arm around her, pulling her towards him."To know what that's like is one of the greatest gifts in the world. And you deserve all the greatest things in the world." His words touched her soul. Here was someone, telling her that maybe she was actually good enough. Maybe she was worth something after all. "You deserve to know what that's like." Her heart stopped for an eternal beat. "Don't you want to know?" he whispered breathlessly into her ear.

She slowly turned to look him full in the face. The depth of his eyes called to her. The knowledge of feeling cared for- possibly even loved- maybe this was what she was looking for all this time. Yes. Yes, she did want to know.

Without another thought, without another word, she reached up, and pulled his face towards her, crushing her lips to his. She kissed him with enough passion to make all the stars go supernova.


	20. Everything You Ever Part 3

**Hello to my beautiful SPN Family! I hope you are having a delightful day. I must (even at the risk of sounding like a broken record) thank every one of you again for reading, favorite-ing, following, and especially reviewing. You all are manna from Heaven. I want to know what you all want to read, and would love to give it to you!**

 **To all of my gorgeous people who have requested particular one-shots- they're coming, I promise! Natalie only lets me tell certain stories at certain times, so if I'm not getting to your story fast enough, blame her. :) I promise, they will all be there eventually. If anyone else has any requests, please let me know!**

 **Special shout out to the best beta ever- Jenmm31. She's a wonderful support as well as a muse. She's helped me dig deeper into Natalie than I thought was possible, and I am forever grateful. Sammy- you're the best. Go check out her wonderful stories- One Day at a Time, and Growing Up, Winchester Style. Fabulous sisfic, with a brilliant original character that Natalie is proud to call "Aunt" in our weird crossover dimension.**

 **Well, here's part three! As always, read, review, and ENJOY!**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is 19. This is the third part of a three part story. If you haven't, please go back and read the previous two chapters, otherwise this ain't gonna make a lick of sense. Please see profile page for Disclaimer.**

Her cell phone read 11:54 as she pulled into the parking lot. Natalie quickly exited the Impala, shut and locked the door, and rushed to their motel room. She pulled out her key, twisted it in the lock, and opened the door, still in a daze from this night with Will. She felt like she was having an out-of-body experience- like someone else's hands were opening the door. Someone else's feet were walking into the motel room. She looked around, surprised to find the room exactly as she left it. In one night, it felt like everything changed, even though almost nothing had. Nothing outside of herself, that is. Everything inside herself was completely different- new, uncharted territory. It was almost baffling that the rest of the world had remained exactly the same.

Dean looked up from his laptop when she entered the room. "Cutting it close, kid," he said, in a lighter tone than usual when it came to her obeying his curfew. She didn't say anything- it was like she was hearing with someone else's ears. Someone that now knew things that she didn't know before. Instead of answering, she reached into her pocket, and pulled out the keys to the Impala. Wordlessly, she tossed them to her father, who caught them easily with one hand. She grabbed her duffel, and walked into the bathroom. Dean's surprised eyes swung to Sam. Sam was looking after her, his mouth slightly agape. So he had noticed, too. Natalie was very rarely speechless. That meant that the date had either gone really well- or really badly. Dean's eyes narrowed at the thought of that young doctor hurting his daughter. Just as he had resolved his plan to kill the kid and make it look like an accident, Natalie emerged from the bathroom wearing her typical sweatpants and tank combo that she slept in.

"You okay?" Dean asked bluntly. Natalie's glazed eyes swung to him, like she had just realized he was in the room.

"How did the date go?" Sam asked, not waiting for her to respond to Dean's question. Her head slowly turned in Sam's direction, and tilted to one side, like she was considering his question. Suddenly, a dazzling smile broke forth.

"It...was...amazing," she said quietly, but the smile still stayed on. Both Sam and Dean breathed an unconscious sigh of relief. "Did you guys find anything on the case?" she said, still in her dreamlike state.

Dean's brow furrowed- he had never seen her like this. This Will must have really impacted her in some way. "Well, we think we know what Robert Ives was getting a loan for," he said, leaving the bait, seeing if she would pick up on it.

"Good. That's good," she said woodenly, clearly not hearing a word he was saying. Dean's eyes swung to Sam again, and they began having one of their silent conversations.

 _What the hell is up with her?_ Dean thought in Sam's direction.

Sam shrugged slightly, as if to say _I don't know._

 _Do you think the date actually went well?_

 _Must have- she's not lying about it._

 _Then what's up with the stoner act?_

 _Beats me._

Natalie, completely oblivious to their silent dialogue about her, plopped down on the sofa. "Hey guys," she said, stretching. Both the boys' eyes swung to her. "I'm pretty tired- I'm going to go to sleep. Let's talk about the case in the morning." Without another word, she laid down, pulling the worn motel blankets over herself, and shut her eyes. Sam's eyes widened- he knew she was lying about being tired, but she clearly didn't want to talk about anything tonight. He simply murmured "good night," and walked to his bed, turning off the room lights as Dean switched the wall sconce between their beds on. They exchanged confused looks.

For the rest of the night, Natalie didn't sleep a wink. Her mind was spinning with all the things she now knew.

*SPN SPN SPN*

The next morning, Natalie was determined to come back to earth. She longed to see Will, to rush right over to the police station and look at him, let alone be with him, but she knew that they still had a job to do. Vaguely, she recalled her dad saying something last night about a clue they uncovered, but for the life of her, she couldn't remember what it was. She knew that this dream land she was currently still floating in wouldn't cut it. She mentally yelled at herself till she was blue in the face, and she came crashing back down to earth. As soon as Sam and Dean were up, she started plying them with questions about the case, determined to keep her feet on the ground. However, until they were fully awake, all of her inquiries just resulted in loud groans from Sam, and pillows being flung at her face by Dean. She waited until they were showered and dressed to continue her barrage of questions. It finally came out (while Dean was brushing his teeth) that they had discovered that Robert Ives had used the money he had borrowed from Mr. Dutcher's bank to buy a house, which was a huge surprise, considering he already had a house with his wife, Susan. Sam had managed to get the address of the house, which was only about 3 towns over. They piled into the Impala, and sped off.

About forty minutes later, they pulled up to a small but nice looking abode. The lawn had been recently mowed, and the house looked like it had recently gotten a fresh coat of paint. It was clear someone was proud to live here. All three of them got out of the car, and made their way to the front door. Dean rang the bell, and a middle aged, rather pretty woman answered.

"Yes? Can I help you?" she asked, clearly unsettled by the sight of three official looking black suits standing at her front door. They pulled out their badges, as per usual.

"Yes ma'am, we're with the FBI. We're wondering does Robert Ives live at this address?"

The woman stepped back, afraid. "Robert?" she called over her shoulder, her voice rising in its nervous state. Natalie tried her usual calming smile, but it seemed to have the opposite effect on this woman. She seemed to shrink in on herself, intimidated just by their presence. Finally, a tall, middle aged man with light brown hair walked up behind the woman. He quickly scanned all three of them, his eyes resting on Dean's badge.

"Can I help you officers?" the man asked.

"Robert Ives?" Sam said in response.

The man nodded. "Yeah, that's me," he said.

"We'd like to ask you a few questions about the death of your wife," Dean said frankly. The woman at the door quickly looked at Robert in horror. _Yeah, there's nothing "off" about that,_ Natalie thought to herself. However, Robert just smiled gently, and placed a hand on the woman's shoulder. Natalie couldn't tell if it was to comfort her, or to restrain her.

"I've already given my statement to the police," Robert said cautiously.

"It'll only take a moment of your time," Sam said, cajoling him. Robert's gaze flicked back and forth between Sam and Dean for a moment, and then he nodded.

"Of course. Come on in," he said. The woman quickly stepped behind Robert, to let the three Winchesters though the door. "Please," Robert said, extending a hand towards the living room. Natalie's eyes scanned the perimeter quickly. Everything was very clean here. There wasn't a lot of knick knacks, or even pictures on the walls. They did, however, have a rather large sofa, long enough for all three of them to sit on. Robert sat opposite of them, in a large lazy boy recliner. Instead of taking a seat in the matching one, the nervous woman sat on the arm of Robert's chair- as if she didn't want to be separated from him. Natalie didn't let her gaze linger on them, but definitely tucked the odd moment away into her mind.

Sam was ready to get down to business. "First off, we'd like to offer our condolences about your wife, Mr. Ives," he said, in a gentle tone. Robert smiled and nodded, but didn't speak.

"You don't seem terribly broken up about it," Dean said bluntly. Natalie's fingers dug into the cushions of the seat she was sitting on. _WHY did he always have to be so direct? Ugh_ , she thought to herself.

Robert seemed to stammer for a moment before speaking. "Well- I mean- she didn't deserve to die. It's tragic. But she and I had been separated for a while now- I supposed I would feel different about it if we had still been together."

"How long had you and Mrs. Ives been separated?" Sam asked.

"About two years. We just became cold towards each other, you know? We stopped finding out new things to know about each other, and we just...got tired."

"And was that the reason why you killed her?" Dean asked scathingly. Natalie had to stop herself from gasping. Dean was really going for the jugular on this one.

"What?! No!" Robert said, his face turning into a mask of horror. "Sure, she and I were heading for divorce, but I didn't kill her! She was...I..."

Sam held up his hand. "Sir- I apologize for my partner's remark. We're just trying to find out what happened to Susan."

Robert's eyes flicked towards Dean once more, scared. He finally turned to the woman. "Debs- can you please get us something to drink?" The woman stood up, clearly still worried, but walked away to the kitchen. As soon as she was out of earshot, Robert leaned forward, looking at Sam, his eyes burning.

"Look," he said in a quiet tone, so Debs wouldn't hear. "I didn't kill Susan, or Dutcher, or that girl from the dentist's office."

"You have to admit- you're tied to two out of the three victims," Dean said, no apology in his voice.

Robert put his head in his hands. "I know, I know. But I swear, I didn't do it."

"Do you have any idea who might have?" Sam asked quietly. Robert didn't move for a moment, which to Natalie meant that he absolutely had an idea. However, they knew it was better for the person to decide to speak rather than force them to. Suddenly, Robert looked up.

"I...maybe," he said faintly. Dean scooted forward to the edge of the sofa cushion, and gave Robert an intimidating look. The poor man gulped for a moment, then stammered to speak again.

"It was all...it all happened so fast," he said haltingly.

"Take your time," Sam said, still playing the "good cop". Robert nodded once, took a deep breath, and launched into his story.

"Susan and I were fighting- fighting all the time. We just were so bored with each other- like I said, there was nothing new to learn- I knew everything about that woman. And then, I met Debs."

"The woman in the kitchen?" Natalie asked quietly. She had a suspicion as to who "Debs" really was, but didn't want to overplay her hand- she wanted to hear it from him. Robert nodded.

"She was a dental hygienist at the dentist's office I used to go to. She was always so nice and polite, and intriguing. I just wanted to know more about this woman, and so...we started dating . On the sly." Natalie nodded to herself. Debs- Debra. This was the woman who had "gone missing".

"Even though you were still married at the time," Sam said, trying to keep the disgust out of his voice.

"We tried to keep it a secret. I was going to divorce Susan, buy a house away from Jackson County, and Debs and I would start our new life together. Trouble was, I didn't have any money saved up, and I just wanted to get away from Susan so badly at that point, that I..." Robert's voice dropped off, and stopped.

"That you...?" Sam continued, urging Robert to go on.

"This is going to sound nuts," he said baldly.

"Trust me, we've heard worse," Dean said with a smirk. Robert gulped.

"There was this girl. A young girl- dark hair, blue eyes. I met her at work. I'm a...well, I used to be a clerk at a hardware store. She came in, looking for weed eater, and for some reason, we started talking. I found myself telling her things that I wouldn't admit to anyone. And she just...listened. And then..." he broke off suddenly again, looking behind him, making sure Debs wasn't coming. "And then, she asked me if there was a way for me to get everything I ever wanted, instantly, would I take it?"

"What did you tell her?" Sam asked. Robert looked at Sam like he had two heads.

"Of course I said yes! Wouldn't you?" he asked, exasperated. Sam cleared his throat, embarrassed. Dean just rolled his eyes, but Natalie was still listening, intently.

"I might say yes," she murmured quietly. Before he could school his own features, Dean's eyes swung to her, disbelieving, but she wasn't deterred. She sat forward. "So what happened after you said yes, Mr. Ives?" she asked quietly.

"She...she pulled an apple from her purse."

"An apple?" Dean said, with a disgruntled look on his face. Robert nodded.

"She gave it to me, and told me, if I took a bite, that everything would become clear. That I would get everything I ever wanted."

"And you believed her?" Sam asked.

Robert nodded. "It all seems silly now, but at the time, all I had been thinking about was how to get the life I wanted...how to be with Debbie and start over new. To rediscover love, to find a new reason to get up in the morning."

"So after you bit the apple, what happened?"

"It was like I suddenly knew what to do. Like the clouds parted and showed me the way. I went immediately to my bank and met with Mr. Dutcher to get a loan for a house. I knew that he would keep it quiet, since Susan and I weren't divorced yet."

"So he put the loan under a false name for you," Natalie offered.

Robert nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on her. "We were able to buy this house, and she and I moved in here. She kept her job at the dentist's office, and we bounced back and forth between our other homes back in Jackson County and this one. It was all going great, for a while."

Natalie nodded. It always went great-for a while. "Then what happened?" she nudged gently.

"It all seemed to go wrong. We were having trouble coming up with the payments- trying to still support other houses, me with Susan, her in an apartment, and we just couldn't make ends meet. Dutcher started threatening to expose us. He was calling me all the time, emailing me constantly, saying he was going to blow our secret if we didn't pay up. Susan got suspicious with the constant phone calls, and she started questioning me too. I think she suspected about Debs, but I'm not sure. It just kept escalating, like a snowball rolling down a mountain, you know?"

"So you did kill them," Sam said quietly, flipping the good cop role on its head. Robert, once again, violently shook his head.

"NO! I was with Debra when they all...I mean, when they..."

"Dropped dead?" Dean offered woodenly. Robert nodded shakily, then inhaled deeply.

"But...the girl. The girl I met in the hardware store? She...showed up again. I was walking in this park in town, it's about 10 minutes from the main part of town, large soccer field where the kids play. I like to walk out there to think, you know? Anyways, I was walking one day, trying to figure this entire mess out, and suddenly, that girl was there again too. Just appeared out of thin air. I freaked out on her. I started yelling at her, saying all kinds of crazy things, you know, like about that apple and what had she done and everything. And then...she pulled out another apple."

"Another one?" Sam asked, surprised.

Robert hung his head. "Yes. She said if I wanted to truly be free, to have everything, all I needed was to take another bite. Since it had worked the first time, I was desperate. I bit that apple without another thought."

"But it didn't work the first time," Natalie said, growing angry. "All it did was create more problems for you in the long run."

Robert held up his hands, as if in defense of himself. "It did work! For a little while! You don't understand. When everything was weighing so heavily on me, all I wanted was a brief respite. I just needed a moment to breathe, and I was desperate enough to try another bite, even if it just gave me a moment." Robert stopped, and ran a shaking hand over his face. "I bit that damn apple, and she just...disappeared."

"Like, just vanished?" Sam asked.

"Yes. I went home to Debs, but I didn't tell her about the girl- it would just scare her, you know? And the next thing I knew, I got the call that Susan was...dead." At the admission of it all, Robert seemed to deflate. He slumped back into his recliner, his eyes glazed over.

"This girl- what was she like?" Dean pressed, not caring that Robert was having some sort of emotional breakdown. Robert blinked a few times, trying to clear his thoughts.

"She, um...she was taller, dark hair, blue eyes..."

"Blue? You sure they weren't red or black?"

Robert looked up, startled. "No. No, they were definitely blue. What do you mean, red eyes?"

"Not important," Sam said dismissively. "Tell me- were there any characteristics about her that you found odd?"

"Such as?"

"Did you notice any peculiar smells? Maybe like rotten eggs or anything?"

"No, I can't say that I did."

"How about cold spots? Did being around her give you goose bumps or anything?" Natalie jumped in. Robert just shook his head "no".

"Alright then, Mr. Ives. Thank you for your time," Sam said, standing up. Dean and Natalie followed his lead. Together, they made their way towards the front door, leaving a sad, pathetic man crumpled in his recliner, his eyes glazed over.

*SPN SPN SPN*

As they climbed into the Impala, Natalie's brain was whirling a mile a minute. She wanted to be wrong. She prayed she was wrong. But she knew she wasn't wrong.

Dean gunned the motor, and before he could say anything, she spoke up. "I know where that field is that Ives was talking about. When we get back to the main part of town, I'll give you directions," she said quietly. Sam and Dean exchange a surprised look, before turning in their seats to look at her.

"You know what this thing is?" Sam asked. Dean's eyes were intently watching Natalie's face. She seemed to be struggling with some internal demon as she answered.

"I think so."

"What is it, then?" Dean asked gruffly.

"You remember the Garden of Eden? The serpent appeared to Eve and tempted her with the Forbidden Fruit?"

"You think the girl is actually the serpent?" Sam said. Natalie turned her head to look out the window, no longer able to make eye contact with either one of them.

"I think whatever it is that's tempting people is some sort of shape shifter," she said quietly. "It takes the form of whatever you'd be the most tempted by. That's why it appeared to Ives as a pretty girl. And to Eve, it was a serpent."

"Hold on- I thought you said that the forbidden fruit was, like, figs or some crap like that," Dean said, not taking his eyes off his daughter.

Natalie shrugged limply. "When in Rome..."

Dean looked at Sam for translation on what that meant, but Sam already knew. She was saying that just as the story had been changed, this creature probably changed too. But before either could offer any other solutions, Natalie spoke again.

"I'm willing to bet we'll find the creature or the tree in that field. We should head over there," she said, her voice dropping lower and lower as she continued to look out of the window. Without any further discussion, Dean pulled out of the driveway, and took a left at the stop sign. Sam picked the conversation back up.

"Okay, so we know how Mrs. Ives and Mr. Dutcher were involved. But what about the young girl? Um...Kaylee? How did she wind up in this mess?"

"Remember that the dentist said that Kaylee and Debra were close? I'm willing to bet that Kaylee knew about the whole situation, and could have blown the lovebirds' cover at any given moment. So the serpent or whatever it is off'd her too," Dean said, the final pieces of the puzzle clicking into place. They continued down the road in silence. After a few minutes, Dean finally turned his head towards Sam.

"So. The Garden of Eden is in Jackson County, Missouri. Who knew?"

*SPN SPN SPN*

They pulled into the park, right to the edge of the field, exactly where the Impala had been the night before. Natalie quickly climbed out of the car, and stared at it for a moment, before shaking herself and stalking into the field. Both Sam and Dean once again exchanged incredulous looks.

"What is going on with her?" Sam hissed at his brother. Dean just shook his head- damned if he knew. They quickly followed Natalie, whose gaze was fixed in the distance. Dean followed her look, and saw what she was zeroing in on. A large, twisting tree was looming in the middle of the field. The sun was beginning to set, and the sky was turning from a gentle orange into a dusty blue. All in all, it was a lovely picture, despite the fact that the fruit that this tree was producing was allegedly killing people. They got closer and closer, until they were right at the base of the tree. The twisting branches looped in and around one another, but Natalie could still see it, clear as day. One large, shiny, red apple was dangling from a branch about midway up. She turned away from the tree, looking at her father.

"One apple. Right up there. It seems like the tree or the serpent or whatever has another victim in mind."

"I wouldn't use the word 'victim'."

Natalie closed her eyes, but she could still hear Sam's gasp. It seems that her prayers had gone unanswered. She turned, and looked at Will, straight in the face.

"I didn't want to believe it was you," she said, despair creeping into her voice. Will smiled gently. The tree was gone, and he was standing exactly where it had been a moment ago.

"So you can shift between male, female, and a tree," Dean said sarcastically. "Wow. Great party trick, dude."

Will laughed, and took a step in towards Natalie. "Why, thank you. It's come in handy quite a few times."

"Awesome. Good for you. Now get away from my daughter, you jackass."

Will tsk'd at Dean. "There is no need to be afraid. I'm not going to hurt Natalie." His deep blue eyes fixated on her green ones. "That's the last thing I want to do."

"Well, I'm sure the last thing that Susan Ives, or Kaylee Costa, or Dutcher wanted to do was die," Sam spat at the young man. "Get away from her." Will rolled his eyes.

"Those people were standing in the way of Robert's happiness. All I did was let him make the choice. I let people choose what they want to know. That's what I do."

"Yeah? Well, what WE do is send creatures like you back to hell where you belong," Dean snarled. At those words, Natalie's face went pale. Will contorted with laughter.

"You think you're going to best me? When all I do is offer knowledge? Offer people what they want the most?" He turned back to Natalie. "Boy, do I have an offer for you."

"Like hell you do!" Dean yelled, and began charging Will. Will looked supremely unconcerned. Right as Dean was about to wrap his hands around Will's throat, Will snapped his fingers.

Suddenly, Natalie found herself in a pool of stars. There was no ground, even though she could feel solidity under her feet. There was no field, there was no tree, and there were no other Winchesters either. She looked around frantically, but all she saw were stars against a deep, dark sky. And Will.

He walked slowly towards her. She stood her ground (metaphorically), but couldn't quite erase the panic from her face at suddenly being transported to god knows where.

"Sshh, sshh," Will whispered soothingly. He stretched out his hands towards her, but she took a step back.

"Where is my family? What did you do to them?" she growled, half angry, half fearful. Will just smiled at her, and took another step closer, reaching to touch her face. When she jerked away again, he dropped his hands with a sigh.

"They're fine. They're back on earth. When they wake up, they won't be hurt at all."

"Hold the phone," Natalie hissed. "They're on EARTH? Then where the hell are we?"

Will chuckled lightly. Natalie wished the sound didn't still make her heart twitch. "We're somewhere- else. Somewhere that I've longed to show someone special. And Natalie- that someone is you."

"Wow. Taken to an astral plane. You really know how to show a girl a good time."

Will turned a wicked grin on her. "Yes, I do, don't I?" Natalie blushed to the very roots of her hair. She hoped against hope that he couldn't see due to the darkness and the stars, but she knew it was pointless. She could see him perfectly fine, and she wasn't even a supernatural creature like he was.

"So what do you want with me?" Natalie said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. In her line of work, she had been captured, tortured, held hostage, tied up- but nothing compared to being confronted by a man that she was falling for. She desperately tried to rein her feelings in, just like Dean had taught her to. Will smiled, and spread his arms wide.

"I want to give you everything you've ever wanted."

Natalie shook her head, as if she couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You want to...what?"

"Natalie, I've been around since the dawn of time. I've seen things that you could only imagine. I've met people that you've only read about. I've done things...that would blow your mind. And I have to tell you- I've never met anyone like you." Natalie's jaw dropped- she certainly wasn't expecting _that._ Trash talk, bribery, blackmail- but not a declaration of...she couldn't even think it. As she struggled to grasp his words,Will continued on.

"Your true and pure heart- your beauty- and the power that you could hold...you are a rare specimen of humanity, indeed."

Natalie's brain tried to keep up, but all she could stammer out was- "What do you mean, the power I could hold?"

Will froze in his tracks. A bewildered look crossed his face. "You really have no idea, do you." It wasn't a question.

"No idea about what?" she asked, getting pissed at all of this run around talking.

"No matter. It's inconsequential," he said, before turning and walking away. "I've seen your soul. You have one of the purest raison d'êtres I have ever seen."

"Raisin...what now?" she spat, fed up at his riddles.

Will snorted a laugh. "And you're funny too. Raison d'être. It means "reason for being". The thing that drives you. Some people call it life goals, others, their "calling". But whatever you want to call it, yours is remarkable." Will turned back to her, the full force of his gorgeous blue eyes boring into hers. "You want to help everyone. To make the world a better place. To save people."

"Yeah- from things like you," she shot at him. Will stilled for a moment.

"Oh, now, you don't mean that," he said, a gentle drawl in his voice.

"Really?" she spat. "Susan Ives, Kaylee Costa, Dutcher- the bank guy? I'd say they needed saving."

Will sighed heavily. "Knowledge is a powerful thing, Natalie. I simply gave Robert the opportunity to know things. That's what I do. You see, when God created me, He did me a disservice. I was a thing of beauty to be looked at, but, according to Him, never touched. A supreme power source to never be wielded. Temptation. I was the foil to see how much His children loved Him."

"And you caused the downfall of man. You got Adam and Eve kicked out of the Garden of Eden."

"I helped them see their potential. God wanted to keep them locked in their little garden, prancing away the days, never seeing the rest of the world. He wanted to keep me at a distance. To never be loved, or admired. Can you imagine what that's like? Being a shiny bauble that is only to be looked at from a distance, when I am capable of so much more? To be kept from love, and admiration? And I deserve both."

"You bring death."

Will paused, and looked away from her into the abyss. "Sometimes. Sometimes, knowledge can bring death. But I can also bring more than you've ever thought of. Everything you ever-"

"How do you know what I want? Huh?" she said, turning on him. "What the hell gives you the right to say that you know what I think about? What I dream about?"

Will slowly walked towards her. "Because your soul showed me. You don't think about having a normal life- you think about having a safe life. You are terrified that your father or your uncle are going to get killed in their line of work." He slowly began circling behind her- she was frozen to the spot, his voice echoing all the forbidden thoughts she'd had about being a hunter. All the thoughts that she'd never told anyone about were being laid our bare on the table. "And the fear isn't unfounded. What they do- what you all do- it's dangerous stuff. And yet, you keep doing it. Because, deep down, you know that THAT is what you are here to do." Will stopped directly behind her, leaned forward, and whispered in her ear. "But what if there was a way to keep you safe? To give you what you want? Everything you've ever wanted?" Will gently put his hands on the tops of her arms. As much as she didn't want to, she melted at his touch. He began slowly running his hands over her shoulders, down her arms, and back up again. "Think about it," he whispered gently. "You could be safe. Your father could be safe. Your uncle could be safe."

"And all the people that we save? What happens to them?" she asked, breathless, trying to keep her heart from overpowering her head, but his touch was too much. She was still falling, she could feel it. Her head leaned back, helpless, against his chest.

"Let someone else save them. Haven't you done enough?" he said, then slowly kissed the side of her face before moving to her other ear.

"Someone...still needs to save them..." she said haltingly. She didn't know how much more of this she could take before she spontaneously combusted.

"That someone doesn't have to be you. I can promise you- your family will be safe. You will be safe. You will have a home. A real job. Money forever. The power of knowing all the good you've done in the world."

"All the trappings of the world- they don't make for a good life."

"But they're beautiful, aren't they?" His voice in her ear was like satin. "All the luxury. The deep, penetrating smell of a rose. The rich, blissful taste of a piece chocolate. And all the wonder of a pair of big, blue eyes." He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her back into his chest. "No more Miss Nice Guy. Those people wouldn't be your responsibility any more. And you would get to have me...forever." At that, Natalie turned in Will's arms and looked at him, her face full of shock- and longing. He nodded slowly, looking directly into her eyes, smiling at her. "Yes. I'd stay with you. I meant what I said. I've never met anyone like you. You intrigue me."

The confession hung in the air between them. There were a thousand things she wanted to say, and yet, none of them seemed right. After an eternity, she spoke. "You...intrigue me too," she admitted in a hushed voice.

He smiled wider, victorious at her admission. "So what do you say?" Will stepped back from her. He twisted his palm, and a shiny, red apple appeared in it. Natalie's eyes zeroed in on the Forbidden Fruit. In his hand was everything she ever wanted. All she had to do was take a bite.

"The choice is yours," he said, watching her wrestle with her decision.

"My father and uncle would be safe? Forever?"

"As would you."

"And all the people we help?"

At that, Will seemed to grow impatient. "This is a once in a lifetime opportunity to take control of the rest of your life. To have the knowledge of how to be in control for the rest of your life." He stepped in closer to her. This time, she didn't back away. He held the apple right in front of her face. "Don't you want to know?"

Natalie swallowed hard. Everything that had happened in the last twenty four hours- everything she'd ever learned in a lifetime as a hunter- everything that she'd been thinking about in her deepest, darkest secret thoughts- here was the chance to put it all to rest. She looked at the apple, then she looked at Will. He could see in her eyes- she had made her choice. He smirked, and turned away, making sure to keep the apple in his palm, extended to the side of him, so Natalie never lost sight of it.

"You have no idea the amazing life you are going to have. You are going to have everything you ever-"

His words were cut short by a gunshot. The apple that had been sitting in his palm exploded. He whipped around to find Natalie, her own arm extended towards him, the silver .45 in her hand. The barrel was still smoking. She slowly lowered the gun without a word.

Will looked, stunned, at his now empty hand. His horrified gaze swung to Natalie, who hadn't moved since lowering the gun. Will's face contorted in pain. He let out a silent scream as his body seemed to stretch and lengthen. His limbs began to twist into impossible shapes and angles, before turning a rotting wood brown. His body began spouting bark and branches. Natalie watched, emotionless, as his face seemed to close in on itself, turning back into a knot in the tree. The last thing she saw of his face were his deep, blue eyes.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Dean suddenly awoke, and was surprised to find himself sprawled out on the hard ground. He didn't remember falling, or even getting hit. He remembered charging that little shit that had made Natalie an offer. _Natalie._

He stood up in a rush, his eyes wildly scanning the surrounding areas for his little girl. He didn't have to look far. And what he saw made him stop in his tracks.

The tree that had been growing in the middle of the field was going up in flames. Every twisted branch, every dry leaf, was a bright, burning orange. And he saw Natalie's silhouette, standing in front of it, watching, absentmindedly flicking the lighter in her hand.

*SPN SPN SPN*

The next day, the three Winchesters were back on the road. At least it wasn't raining this time. But that didn't mean that Dean wasn't worried. His eyes kept constantly flicking between the road and his daughter in the backseat. She had been staring out of the window the entire time, barely saying anything since last night. The car ride had been mostly silent. Sam had felt the tension too, and was keeping quiet. Dean had put on the radio, just to break the deafening silence. They finally pulled into a gas station.

"I'm going to grab us some snacks- you guys want anything?" Sam said, jumping out of the car.

"Naw, I'm good," Dean said, then his eyes sought Natalie's again. She didn't turn to look at Sam, but she did speak.

"No, thank you," she said quietly. Sam just nodded, exchanged another worried look with Dean, and left. Dean couldn't take it anymore. He twisted in the seat, and put one arm up on the back.

"Hey. What's going on?" he said gruffly. Natalie didn't respond or even move. It was like she hadn't heard him. Which made him all the more agitated.

"Natalie. Talk to me," he said, almost pleading. At the tone in his voice, Natalie finally turned her face to him. To his immense surprise, she was smiling. His eyes grew wide.

'You're smiling," he said, not quite believing what he was seeing. She chuckled gently, low in her throat.

"Yeah, I'm smiling," she acknowledged.

"So...are you...does that...what?" Dean stammered out, at a complete loss for what was going on.

"Let's just say that I know things now. And I know which direction I'm supposed to go. And I finally know that answer to what's been bothering me for the longest time."

"And that is?"

"That's I'm doing the right thing. And that feels awesome. I'm tired of being scared to smile. I can still be happy, and still do what I was meant to do. One doesn't mean that I have to give up the other one."

Dean just stared. He knew his kid was smart, but this- this was beyond her years. "And how did you learn all this?"

She giggled. "It wasn't from an apple, I can tell you that."

Relieved at the tension breaking moment, Dean threw her his sarcastic grin. "See? Fruit only brings bad things. I've told you this for years."

Natalie laughed. The joke wasn't even that funny, but the relief that she felt, and the threshold she had crossed- she felt like a new person. And she was ready to keep going. She would never hide her smile again. And she would keep her family safe. She would save people. She would hunt things. And she would be happy.


	21. Secret Weapons

**Good Day my Beautiful, Wonderful, Spectacular SPN Family! Oh, how I've missed you. I apologize for the delay in posting- I've been working 12 plus hour days recently, and haven't had a chance to do, well, anything. But I'm back!**

 **Much gratitude and love to all of you who take the time to read and review- your reviews are Heaven on Earth. I appreciate knowing what you think and want to see. The next couple chapters will be requests! If you have anything that you would like to read, please let me know! I've had so many requests for little Natalie, that I had to share this one with you guys. I hope you enjoy it!**

 **Biggest thank you in the world to Jenmm31. The best cheerleader I've ever had. I owe you one, Sammy. Please go check out her fabulous stories. She's brilliant and insightful with a great sense of humor. You will love her works.**

 **Enough from me- let's hear from the kid! Big hugs to all of you- please read, review and enjoy! Love you all!**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is 3. For disclaimer, please see my Profile Page.**

It was a warm Thursday afternoon in the middle of Indiana. The August sun was beating down full force on the small town where the Winchesters had just completed another case. It was too warm to even think about packing it up and leaving- not just yet. Too warm to let a hyperactive three year old run around outside long enough to exhaust her before another road trip. Dean pulled his shirt collar away from his neck rapidly a few times, begging for a bit of relief. The air conditioner in the motel room was going full blast, but it wasn't entirely enough to keep them comfortable, especially when Natalie wanted to keep running around like a maniac. They had finally convinced her to stop when Sam picked her up and suggested reading through her books. She loved being read to, and had finally capitulated. She sat quietly in Sam's lap as he had read book after book. Since it was keeping her from tearing through the room and dehydrating herself in this heat, not to mention making the air conditioner work double duty, Sam had been only too happy to keep plowing through everything in her small library. Besides, he really did enjoy reading to her. Listening to her giggle at her favorite parts, gasp when something happened- like she hadn't heard the same story dozens of times- it all never ceased to entertain him. He knew they didn't have long to enjoy times like this, so he was determined to make the most of every moment he could with his niece. Their lives just turned too much on a dime to not take advantage of these rare, peaceful pauses.

Dean was sitting on his own bed, listening to Sam's lilting voice as he read all about a giant beanstalk and a scrappy thief named Jack. He looked over at his brother and smiled. He knew how much Sam loved this. He also knew that Sam was reaching the end of Natalie's small stack of books, having plowed through Green Eggs and Ham, Goldilocks, Sleeping Beauty, and a couple Bernstein Bears. He made a mental note to try to grab a couple more of those little golden books that she liked then next time he was out, especially the fairy tales. Natalie was becoming obsessed with them. Dean had managed to stay away from all the Disney crap so far, but he knew it was only a matter of time before she demanded them. He also knew he needed a game plan for the moment, since Sam's story time was quickly running out. He pulled their bag of weaponry onto his worn out bedspread, and carefully began pulling a couple guns and knives out, laying them out one by one. Sam's eyes darted to him, and when he saw Dean unloading the bag, he stopped reading for a moment. He was about to ask Dean what in the world he was doing, when he felt a small hand push on his chest.

"Unca Sam! Read!" Natalie said, pointing emphatically at the book. Sam shook his head.

"Um, hang on a second, Bug," he said, laying the book down, and leaning over towards Dean.

"No! Read!" she said, pushing both small hands against his chest this time.

"Natalie," Dean said blankly. Even though there was no emotion behind it, Natalie knew what her father meant when he said her name like that. It meant 'stop whatever it is you're doing, now'. She stuck her lower lip out as far as it would go, and slumped back into Sam's chest, annoyed at having her pastime interrupted. Dean looked over at his pouting daughter, and rolled his eyes. She was so damn stubborn sometimes. He had no idea where she got it from. Must have been her mother. That bitch.

Sam tilted his head, looking at the arsenal. "What are you doing?" he asked, interrupting Dean's uncharitable thoughts towards his ex.

"You're almost at the end of the book," Dean said, lifting up his favorite silver .45 into the light, inspecting it. "If we don't come up with another form of entertainment soon, we're going to have a straight up rebellion on our hands." His eyes slid back to Natalie, who was now pounding Sam's thighs impatiently, albeit silently, waiting for him to start reading again. Sam didn't pay any attention to the tiny fists though. He only had eyes for the dangerous paraphernalia littering Dean's bed.

"You're going to let her play with the weapons?!" Sam asked incredulously. He knew that Dean had a much different approach to parenting than most, but this? This was insane, even for him.

Dean gave Sam his best _are you freaking kidding me?_ face. "Yeah. I'm going to let a three year old loose in a crowded room with a loaded gun. Just for kicks and giggles. See how rusty you've really gotten." Sam gave Dean his best bitch face, causing Dean to roll his eyes again. "I'm going to show her what all these weapons are," he said, using the gun to gesture to the other three pieces on the bed.

"You really think that's a good idea?"

Dean shrugged. "I think it's a freaking great idea. You know how she gets when she's bored. She already steals our phones every chance she gets, no matter how many times we tell her not to. It's only a matter of time before she starts digging through the bags." He looked back at his .45, making sure it was unloaded. "I'd rather be the one to show her this stuff, and teach her that she's not supposed to play with it until we tell her to."

"Play with it?!"

"You know what I mean."

"And when exactly is that going to be?"

"Gee, I don't know. I was thinking of taking her out to the gun range...what...tomorrow? Do ya think that's too soon?"

"I don't need the snark, Dean."

"Sam, how the hell am I supposed to know the exact date when that's gonna happen? When she's ready, she'll be ready, and I'll just know."

"How?"

"I just will, okay? Geez," Dean grumbled. "Freaking mother hen over here."

Sam heaved a big sigh. If he had his way, he'd keep Natalie as far away from this whole lifestyle as possible. But since day one, literally since the day Natalie had come into this world, Dean was determined to keep her at his side. He and Dean had gone round and round several times on this, but Dean wasn't budging. They both had grown up without their mother, and their dad had constantly been on the hunt, seeking revenge for his wife's death. They both knew John had loved and cared for them in his own way- but it had always felt like he loved them as much as he could, and no more. The man had been consumed by grief, and had dealt with it by bringing his boys into the hunting world. It had been the only way he could have survived.

It had been hell on all three of them, with the boys growing up like that, but it had cemented Dean's resolve to hunt. Even now that they were adults, Dean would never be able to fully leave the hunting world, despite his best efforts. It always came back, never letting go, never letting them rest. Sam was the same way. They would have been fools to expect that any offspring either one of them had would have been left alone by the Other Side, even if they had managed to go into hiding. There were too many evil supernatural beings out there gunning for Winchester blood. It didn't matter to a demon if it was one of the brothers they caught- they would have almost been happier to get their hands on a Winchester child. And Sam and Dean both knew it. So they were going to keep Natalie with them as long as possible.

Sam returned his attention to his niece, who was now kicking her heels into the bed, trying to get Sam's focus back. For being only three, she was surprisingly strong, and the bed springs were creaking under her assault. Sam smiled to himself.

"Alright, alright, Bug," he said soothingly. "I'm back with you." The kicking immediately stopped, and she reverted to being the perfect child once more. She squealed in delight, and cuddled back into Sam's arms. She stabbed her finger into the open book.

"You was there," she said insistently.

"You WERE there," Sam corrected gently. She didn't say anything, just waited for him to start the story again. He chuckled, and resumed reading. They finished out the book quickly, Natalie pumping her tiny fist in the air when Jack got the best of that nasty giant. Sam chuckled- she looked just like a miniature Dean when she did that. Sam placed the book on the now completed stack next to him. Natalie bounced up, already ready for her next form of entertainment. She stood on the bed, and twisted around so she was facing her uncle. The old bed frame wobbled dangerously, even from her tiny body, and she lurched to the side, trying to steady herself.

"Whoa, hang on there Bug," Sam said, reaching out to grab her before she fell. "Don't jump up on the bed like that."

She giggled and dodged him. "It's fun!" she said, pleased with her new game of keep away from Uncle Sam.

Sam's quick reflexes put an end to that. He grabbed her sides tightly, before she could jump away again, afraid she was still going to tumble to the floor. "It's dangerous. Sit down on the bed, please."

"No!" came the knee jerk toddler reaction.

"Natalie, please sit down on the bed," Sam tried again, convinced that if he said "please" enough, she would listen. She wriggled, trying to get out of his grasp.

"NO!"

"Natalie!" Dean barked. She immediately stilled, and looked over at her dad, trying to assess how serious he was this time. He was definitely giving her The Eye. She whimpered once more in protest, just to see what he would do. Dean cocked one eyebrow at her. That was all it took. She plopped down on the bed with a huff, her lower lip poking out again, but she didn't try to get back up on the bed. Seeing that she was behaving, arguably under protest, but still behaving, Dean looked at Sam.

"You gotta learn to be more firm with her, Sam," Dean said in his low tone. "This 'please' crap isn't going to work. Otherwise she's gonna run over you like a steam roller." Sam just looked away. He knew Dean was right- well, about the steam roller part; he still believed his 'please' method would win out- but he couldn't help it. His soft spot for her was way more in control than the disciplinary side. It was difficult for him, especially when she started pouting. That lower lip had managed to get her out of any number of scrapes, even though Sam would never have admitted it. However, before he could retort, Dean called out to Natalie.

"Hey, kiddo, come here," he said in a gentler voice, letting Natalie know she wasn't in trouble any more. The lower lip instantly disappeared, and she pushed herself off the bed, running over to Dean. He picked her up, and set her on his lap, her back to his front. He wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her tight. He leaned down and snorted like a pig into her ear, causing her to jerk away in a flurry of giggles, which just caused him to snort louder, until she was shrieking with laughter. When she finally caught her breath, Dean reached down and picked up his .45 carefully.

"Alright, squirt. Now I want to show you all this, but you listen to me- Don't. Touch. Anything. Not one thing. Got it?"

Natalie nodded her head in wonder. Usually Dean let her play with just about anything she could get her hands on. She had no idea what these things were, and was curious enough to obey her father to find out. Besides, she really hated when she was in trouble with Daddy, so she tried to do what he said. Most of the time.

Dean slowly brought the unloaded .45 in front of him, watching Natalie's hands. She was keeping them firmly planted on his legs, just looking with her eyes. He smiled once, pleased that she was doing as she was told.

"This is a gun," he said. Her head cocked to the side as she stared at the weapon. "This is one of the things we use to kill the monsters that we hunt."

"Oh," she whispered her voice full of wonder. Her piercing green eyes stared at the shiny silver. She wanted so badly to touch it, but she knew that her daddy wouldn't like it, so she didn't.

"It's very dangerous. That's why I don't want you touching it until I tell you that you can. Got it?"

"How's it dangerous?"

"Because if it isn't held right, or treated with respect, it can go off and hurt you and other people. That's why you don't play with them or touch them."

Natalie nodded seriously. She pointed to a small pistol to Dean's right. "Is that a gun too?" she asked in a whisper.

Dean nodded, grinning. His kid was so damn smart. "Yup. Good job, squirt."

"Why are they other colors?"

Dean took a split second to puzzle out what she meant by that. It finally dawned on him that she was asking why one was silver and the other black. "Because we need different guns for different things. Sometimes, we have to use different types of guns to kill monsters."

"You throw the gun at them?"

Dean smothered a laugh. "Not exactly. This part- right here?" He twisted the gun around to the side, pointing. "This is called the trigger. You pull on that, and that makes the gun go off."

"And that kills monsters."

"What's in the gun kills the monster. For spirits, we use rock salt bullets. For werewolves and shape shifters, we use silver. So all kinds of different bullets kill different monsters. Understand?"

"Yup!"

Dean nodded, put the .45 down, and picked up his sawed-off. "This is a kind of a gun too," he exclaimed, bringing it in closer after quickly double checking that it was unloaded. He felt Natalie's little fists bunch up on his legs, but stay put. He knew they were going to be reaching the end of today's lesson soon. She was still only three, for crying out loud- her capacity for "Don't Touch" when she was being presented with all these shiny new objects was going to wear out soon. He turned the shotgun over in his hands, showing her.

"This is called a sawed-off. We use this one to shoot ghosts and spirits." Natalie squirmed, but didn't reach her hands out, even though every fiber of her being desperately wanted to touch it.

"Okay, kiddo. One more, then we'll put all this stuff away," Dean said, sensing her frustration at having to look just with her eyes. He picked up the demon knife. Natalie gasped once, and bound off Dean's lap, twisting around quickly as only an agile three year old can do. She sat face to face with Dean, sitting on her hands. She knew if she didn't, she would touch it and he would be mad. But she had never seen anything so pretty before. Dean held the knife in both hands, but close to his chest. She leaned in for a better look. Dean watched her little eyes light up in delight.

"Wow," she whispered. "It VERY pretty!"

"Uh huh," Dean said. He chuckled to himself- pretty wasn't what usually crossed his mind when he thought of this particular knife, but hey, what did he know? He carefully laid it on the bed, close enough to himself to grab it if temptation became too much for the three year old, but close enough to her that she could look at the writing on it. She put her hands on either side of the knife to balance herself better on the bed, and looked closely at the inscription.

"What does it say?" she asked breathlessly. Dean was thrown for a moment- for the life of him, he couldn't remember. He looked over quickly at Sam, who shrugged. Natalie took advantage of that rare moment of her father's distraction, and was reaching her hand out to put one finger on the knife- just one. One finger couldn't hurt, right? And it was just so pretty. Unfortunately for her, Dean's gaze fell on the knife and the little reaching finger right then.

"Natalie!" he yelled. She froze, caught in mid-movement. Her eyes snapped up to his face, but the rest of her remained still- one tiny finger extended towards the demon knife. She looked exactly like a stereotypical kid-caught-with-their-hand-in-the cookie-jar; except it was a knife to kill demons instead of a batch of chocolate chip.

"What did I say about this stuff? Don't touch anything!" Dean scolded loudly. Natalie looked down at the knife for a moment, but still didn't move.

"But it don't got a tri- tri..."

"Trigger?"

"Trigger. It don't hurt like a gun."

"Knives are different. They are sharp and can cut. Don't. Touch. It."

"But..."

"No Buts! Don't touch it!"

Natalie's face puckered up like she had been sucking on a lemon. She looked Dean square in the face. Dean could see the anger and resolve building behind her eyes. Her stubbornness was currently taking the wheel, and it was taking no prisoners. He wasn't going to let her win this one, though. She had to learn to do what he said, when he said it. His own stubbornness reared its head, firming his resolve.

"Last warning, little girl. You better do what I tell you, or you're gonna get it," Dean said in a stern voice.

Natalie's eyes narrowed.

Dean's eyes narrowed.

Slowly, and very deliberately, she reached the one finger out and put it on the hilt of the knife. One lightning-quick second later, Dean grabbed her offending hand by the wrist, and gave it a slap. He obviously didn't use all of his strength, but the smack was hard enough that it stung. She gasped, her little mouth dropping open, her eyes going wide. She seemed speechless as she stared at her father, still holding her tight by the wrist.

Dean leaned down, staring right into her face. "I told you not to touch it, and you were bad. This is why you do what I tell you to, got it?" He released her wrist, and she sat back, still stunned. She examined her hand. There was a tiny pink spot on the back where he had smacked her. She didn't like that at all. She also didn't like that Daddy had said she had been bad. She didn't like being bad, but she wanted to touch the knife more than anything. The warring feelings of frustration, sadness, shock, and daring rolling around in her three year old brain finally boiled down to two- she was mad. Mad that she got in trouble, and mad that she had been bad. And as a result, she wanted sympathy. Her eyes darted back up to Dean. She stuck her lower lip out, but before she could do any more, he spoke.

"Don't even try it, Natalie," he said sternly. "You deserved that, and you know it." Her face puckered once more in anger. She didn't really have any hope that Dean would give her sympathy, especially when she had just gotten in trouble. She was only three, but had a very distinct sense of right and wrong. And both she and Dean knew that she knew she had been bad. So she was in the wrong here. Big deal. Dean wasn't the only adult in the room.

Dean watched as Natalie's eyes darted over to Sam, who had been watching the entire exchange. She slid off the bed once she saw him looking at her. She walked over to him without a word, and held up her arms towards him, just like she used to do as a baby when she wanted to be held. Sam quickly looked from her to Dean. Dean was shooting Sam his own bitch face. Sam knew that Dean didn't like it when he coddled Natalie after she had just been punished. But just then, Natalie unleashed her own secret weapons. She let out the hint of a whimper, combined with the protruding lower lip. And Sam was gone.

He reached out and picked her up under her arms. The second his hands touched her, her face crumpled, and she began wailing. "Hey, hey, it's okay, it's alright," Sam said, pulling her into his arms. She knotted her small hands into the front of his flannel shirt, and buried her face in his chest, still giving off loud, theatrical sobs. Dean rolled his eyes.

"Oh, for god's sake, Sam," he spat, annoyed.

"What? She's upset, Dean. Since when is it a crime to comfort a crying three year old?" Sam retorted, wrapping his arms even tighter around her.

Dean shook his head. "You know she's playing you, right?"

"What?"

"Playing you, Sammy. Like a violin."

"Stop being ridiculous."

"I'm being ridiculous?!" Dean snorted, rolling his head back, looking at the ceiling. He couldn't believe the so-called Smarty Pants was getting worked over by a toddler. "I'm willing to bet you five hundred dollars there's not a tear on that face." Upon hearing that, Natalie pressed her face even harder into Sam's chest. Sam responded by rubbing her back in small circles, trying to soothe her.

"Maybe you smacked her harder than you thought," he said, a touch of bitterness in his voice.

Dean sat upright, glaring at his brother. "Hey. That's crossing a line. I would NEVER do that. Yeah, it hurt a bit- it's supposed to hurt. But she can't even feel it anymore. I'd never hit her like that, never," he said emphatically, his hackles raising. Sam just looked away, down at Natalie. He gingerly pulled her hand away from his shirt to inspect it. There was no mark on it, not even the pink spot that had been there a moment before. Realizing that Dean was probably right, he reached down to pull Natalie away from him, but she wasn't done getting what she wanted yet. Her cries, which had recently been reduced to a couple sniffles, started up again, full force. He pulled her right back into him, cuddling her and rocking her. His guilty eyes avoided his brother's face.

Dean was just shaking his head slowly. "Like a violin," he muttered. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Hey- she's still upset, so I'm going to comfort her. There is nothing wrong with that," he said, trying to defend himself. Dean started putting the weapons back into the duffel. To leave the bag of shiny things in the same room as Natalie? Now that was cruel. He wanted to get them out of sight, so when she was done with her little tantrum, she would go back to being the perfect hyper angel. He just continued to shake his head at Sam's caving.

"This is going to come back and bite you in the ass, buddy boy."

"And how's that?"

"If she thinks she can get sympathy from you, running to you every time she gets in trouble, she's never going to listen to a damn thing you say."

"You're full of it."

"Just wait and see," Dean said. He zipped the bag closed, stood up, and walked over towards the end table where his keys were. He stopped at the door, and then turned back to Sam, an ironic grin on his face.

"Hey," he said. Sam looked up at him, exasperated.

"She's gonna stop 'crying' the second I walk out. Just watch," Dean mouthed, not wanting Natalie to hear. He chuckled, and as he walked out the door, Sam heard him mutter, "like a freaking violin" again. As if a switch had been flipped, the second the door closed behind him, Natalie popped up in Sam's lap, all wails and cries silenced. Sam froze for a second, surprised. Natalie held up her "injured" hand to Sam, once again, poking her lower lip out. He quickly grabbed it, knowing what she wanted. He gave it a small kiss. She beamed her angelic smile at him.

"Candy?" she asked innocently. Sam's face fell. Dammit. She remembered. He had a small stash of chocolates in his bag that he kept just for her, hidden from Dean. Whenever she fell or got hurt, all it took was one chocolate, and it was like it never happened. He quickly looked at the door, analyzing how much time he had before Dean walked back in. He leaned away from Natalie, thrust his hand into his duffle, and came up with one Hershey's kiss. He dropped it into her hands.

"Don't tell your dad about this," he cautioned. Natalie quickly opened it and popped it into her mouth, snuggling back into Sam's arms. So her daddy had a whole stash of weapons that she couldn't play with just yet. Fine by her. She was perfectly content with her own secret weapon- Uncle Sam.


	22. Carbon Copies

**Hello my beautiful SPN family! I hope you all are well this glorious Friday morning!**

 **This is a story requested by the fabulous angieggjb. I hope you like it, sweetheart! A very special thanks to all of you who read, favorite, follow, and review. Guys- you make my heart sing every time I get an email from FanFiction. Just to know that you all care as much about Natalie as I do- and you're interested in her story- if you're a writer, then you know what it feels like. If you're not, it's one of the best feelings in the entire world. I can't even do it justice with words. So please know how special each and every one of you is to me.**

 **Biggest thanks in the world to Jenmm31. She's been my cheerleader since Day 1, and is the only reason that Natalie's around for you all to read. Otherwise, she would have stayed in my head. Jen- I am forever grateful for you and your friendship. If you haven't already checked out her wonderful stories- GO DO IT.**

 **Alright- enough from me! Please read, review, but above all- ENJOY!**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is 9. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

"Would you get the lead out already?" Dean barked at Sam. Sam just rolled his eyes in response, and continued loading the two sawed-offs. They had found a pretty open and shut case- well, on the surface, it seemed like an open and shut case. A vengeful spirit had been targeting a family's home in eastern Minnesota. When they had read the account in the papers, the three Winchesters had booked it to the location, driving overnight to find the house. When they had gotten there, they immediately went into work mode- eager to put this one to bed. This case reminded Dean too much of the poltergeist that had taken over their childhood home back in Lawrence Kansas, and he wanted to get it taken care of quickly, so this family could get back to normal. So that they could have a chance at being something that he and Sam never were- a normal family.

They had stopped at the motel just long enough to change into their official FBI suits and were back on the road, heading towards the suburbs. Since the family had three young kids- all younger than Natalie- they took her with them as an impromptu babysitter, should the situation need it. When they showed up as "FBI", they used the old standby of "Take Your Kid to Work Day" to explain Natalie's presence which, technically, was true. And- not for the first time on a case- they were grateful that Natalie was there. The kids were a handful; having been cooped up in the house by a frightened mother. While Sam and Dean interrogated the mom, Natalie had watched and played with the five year old and the twin toddlers, both of whose noses were running just as much as their little legs were. As they were trying to conduct the interview, Dean could hear the pounding footsteps over head as Natalie chased after the kids. He wryly thought to himself, _the kid's finally getting a taste of her own medicine._ He had lost track of the number of times that Bobby yelled at her to quit running in the house, not to mention the times he'd had to chase after her during the Toddler Years.

Natalie had always had an overabundance of energy, and it certainly came in handy now. The five year old wanted to play hide and seek, while the toddlers seemed bent on climbing anything and everything they could reach. Just when Natalie would go to try to find the one kid who was hiding, she'd turn around and have to pull one of the babies from off the bookshelf, off the toy box, off of each other, only to completely lose track of where the older child was hiding. She also spent a considerable amount of time wiping their runny noses, and trying to use Lysol for whatever they touched, to keep the older kid from getting sick. She found her head spinning, and she wondered if she was this much trouble when she was younger.

When the interview was over, and the boys were ready to head back to the motel to start their research, they had collected Natalie, who was looking like she'd just run a marathon trying to keep up with three kids. Upon arrival at the motel, Sam and Dean immediately headed for their laptops, having talked through a game plan in the car on their way back. Natalie had plopped down on the sofa- her bed of choice- and had cracked open her math book. She knew she had to finish her homework before they would allow her to help do any research on the case, so she was diligently plowing her way through long division and word problems. Sam and Dean had quietly talked about what they had found, trying to keep it down so she could focus as well. She loved doing research on cases, and they were usually grateful to have an extra set of eyes on whatever it was they were tracking. But this time, once she finished her math, Natalie had quietly walked over to the two of them, working at the small table in the center of the room.

"Hey," she said, causing both Sam and Dean to look up. Her voice was quieter than normal. "You guys need any help?"

"No, Bug, I think we're good," Sam said, smiling at her. "We found the guy who died in that house."

"We were even able to find out where the bastard is buried. Check it out," Dean said proudly, turning the laptop towards her so she could see. She squinted and looked at the webpage. She smiled, but not her usual breathtaking million watt smile.

"That's great," she said quietly. "Do you mind if I watch some TV? I'll keep the volume low."

"Sure, squirt," Dean said, surprised by the fact that she didn't ask any questions. She nodded her thanks, and turned away, walking back to the couch. Dean's eyes lingered on her. It wasn't like her to just avoid details on a case, and she usually was begging to come. _Those kids today must have really worn her out,_ he thought to himself. Sam had thrown together a couple sandwiches for dinner, which they all ate quickly, chewing while they made their game plan. Once dinner was over, they were about to head out to salt and burn the bones.

As Sam was loading the sawed-offs, Dean gave another quick glance at his kid, who was watching cartoons at a low level, curled up in the fetal position on the couch. "You gonna make it to bedtime, lazy?" he asked her jokingly.

"Course I will," she answered back gruffly, but didn't move. Dean's brow wrinkled in confusion again. She had been quiet all through dinner too, going right back to the couch and TV once it was over. He shrugged it off. The nagging feeling of worry was dumb. If something was wrong with Natalie, she'd tell him. He turned back to Sam, annoyed at the length of time it was taking.

"Geez, Sam, what are you waiting for- the Rapture? Get a move on!" Dean threw at his little brother. He looked out of the motel room window. The sun had set a couple hours ago. He was eager to get this salt and burn done so he could get back here. Nine years later, and he still hated every moment he was away from his daughter. He impatiently relaced his boots while Sam loaded the last shells. Finally, Sam stood upright, indicating that he was ready to go. "About damn time," Dean growled. Sam just shot Dean his patented Bitch Face. He crossed over to the sofa, where Natalie was still staring at the TV, her eyes glazed over in the flickering blue light.

"Hey Bug, we're heading out. Behave," he said with a gentle smile. Her lips pulled up in response, but other than that, she didn't move. Now it was Sam's turn to look at her quizzically. When she didn't give any more response than that, he said, "Alright then. See ya." He reached out a hand to tousle her hair. But once his hand touched her head, he froze. "Whoa," he said quietly after a moment.

Dean heard his brother's exclamation, and his head whipped around. "What?" he said.

Sam just moved his hand from the top of Natalie's head to her forehead. He held it there for a moment, and she didn't jerk away like usual. Dean didn't like what this indicated. "What?!" he said again, this time a little more insistently. Sam turned to Dean, a worried look in his eyes.

"Dude, she's burning up," he said quietly. Dean abandoned the bag of shovels and salt, and quickly walked around to the front of the couch to look his daughter full in the face.

"Are you sick?" he asked bluntly.

"No," came the knee jerk response.

"Yeah- tell that to your fever, " Sam said dismissively. He took his hand off her forehead, and walked into the bathroom, looking for the thermometer that he insisted on keeping on hand for occasions like this. Dean had scoffed at him when he had said he wanted to buy one, proclaiming that the Winchesters never got sick. Sam had purchased the damn thing anyways. Dean couldn't help but notice the smug look on Sam's face now when he pulled out the thermometer. Dean deliberately looked away, not wanting to give Sam the satisfaction of knowing that he was right. Sam walked around to the front of the couch as well, and knelt down in front of his niece. He held the thermometer out to her.

"Open up."

"I'm not sick."

"Natalie."

"Uncle Sam, I'm fine.

"You heard your uncle."

With a sigh, Natalie reluctantly opened her mouth. Sam slipped the thermometer in. "You gotta keep it under your tongue till the timer beeps, okay?" Natalie rolled her eyes in response, but adjusted the thermometer so it was under her tongue. After a moment, the timer beeped, and Sam withdrew it. He held it up so he could see the read-out. "101.2. Yeah. You're not sick," he said lightly, but it was masking his fear. Natalie had had a couple fevers growing up, but never one this high before. He took the thermometer to the bathroom to disinfect it, while Dean leaned down, reaching out a hand to his kid.

"Why didn't you tell me you were sick, kiddo?" he asked gently, feeling her burning forehead for himself.

"Because I'm not sick," she answered stoically. Dean just rolled his eyes. Once again, her stubbornness was rearing its head at the worst possible moment.

He shook his head. "You can drop the tough guy act- it ain't workin'," he said, a tone of teasing in his voice.

"I just need to rest for a bit. I'm a little tired, that's all." Upon hearing that, Dean's eyebrows shot into his hairline. For Natalie to admit that she was tired, even just a little- she was sicker than she was letting on. She must have caught something from one of those snot-nosed little toddlers she was chasing around this afternoon. Dean felt a pang of guilt- if he hadn't taken her, she wouldn't have gotten sick. Just then, Sam walked back into the room.

"So I just checked our med supplies- we don't have anything on hand for cold and flu symptoms. I'm going to run out to the store and grab her a couple things," he said quietly to Dean. Natalie heard him and piped up.

"You don't need to spend any money on stuff. I'm fi-" She was cut off by a wave of her own coughing. Sam and Dean just exchanged knowing looks, and Sam left without another word, grabbing the Impala keys and heading out the door. Natalie tried to call out after him, but every time she opened her mouth, she would start coughing again.

Dean tried to mask how worried he was. He'd never heard her cough like this, rendering her unable to speak. However, it wasn't unusual that he freaked out at any small possible medical issue when it came to his daughter. When she sneezed for the first time as a baby, Sam practically had to sedate Dean to calm him down. Since then, he tried to keep a level head, but this was the first time she was genuinely sick that he could remember. He felt out of his league. "Hey- stop that," Dean said, again, jokingly to her, trying to use humor to alleviate the pressure he felt.

"Believe me, I'd love to," she finally managed to wheeze out, clearly still having trouble speaking. Dean crossed to the kitchenette and grabbed a glass of water for her. He brought it back, and pushed it into her hands.

"Drink up."

"I don't want it."

"Not an option. Drink."

She drank the whole glass down in one shot, then put it down on the ground in front of the sofa.

"Do you wanna move into one of the beds?" Dean asked, feeling at a loss as to what to do to help her.

"No. I'm not sick."

"Of course you're not. You want some more water?"

"No, thank you."

Well, that was the end of his playbook. Dean watched helplessly as his kid curled in on herself even tighter. He wanted to reach out and comfort her, but for some bizarre reason, he was afraid that might make her worse- make her agitated or something. He stood there awkwardly for a moment, then finally sat himself down on the other end of the couch. He grabbed her blanket, but hesitated at putting it on her, suddenly afraid that the heat would make her fever go higher. He sat, feeling stupid and useless, as his child burned with fever next to him.

After the longest fifteen minutes of his life, he finally heard Sam pull up outside the door to the motel room. He bolted off the couch and threw the door open. Sam had just barely gotten out of the car. Dean wondered how in the world Sam knew what to get at the drug store. He tried to remember a time that Sam had ever been sick. The only thing that came to mind was when Sam had been three, and had gotten a cold. John had stayed with them, nursing Sam back to health, and keeping Dean at a distance so he wouldn't catch the bug. After that, Dean couldn't remember any other colds or flus. And he never got sick himself. How did Sam know what to do?

"Well? What did you get her?" Dean barked, his nerves getting the better of him. Sam, however, was all too used to Dean's occasional freak-outs when it came to Natalie. He brushed past his brother, his arms laden with Walgreens bags. Dean followed at his heels. "Did you get something for cough? Because she's been coughing too," said the over anxious father. Sam dropped the bags on the table, and walked into the kitchen to get a spoon and another glass of water. Dean immediately starting fishing through the bags to see what Sam had purchased. When Sam came back, he smacked Dean's hands away from the supplies like a naughty kid. Dean reared back in surprise, but Sam was all business. He grabbed a box of tissues and the liquid cold and flu medicine. He walked back over to his niece, who was still curled up on the sofa, not moving. He put the tissue box on the floor in front of her, where she could easily grab it if needed. He opened the medicine, and poured out a spoon full. He held it up to her lips and waited.

Natalie saw the reddish medicine and recoiled in disgust. She pinched her lips together and refused to make eye contact with Sam. Sam just gave her a bitch face that she could actually feel, since she was avidly avoiding his gaze.

"Natalie," he said gently but firmly.

Through barely parted lips she said, "Don't need it."

"Open up, right now." Sam very rarely got stern with her, and when he did, it was enough for her to sit up and take notice. She couldn't quite keep herself from giving him the overdramatic eye roll as she opened her mouth. Sam tipped the spoon full of medicine onto her tongue, and quickly handed her the glass just as her eyes went wide and started to water.

"Swallow the medicine, then drink the water," Sam instructed firmly. Natalie quickly obeyed, then gulped the glass of water like she was dying of thirst. After she polished off the entire glass, she glared at Sam.

"That was repulsive. I was going to spit it out," she growled at him.

"Yeah, I know you were," Sam said with a patronizing chuckle. She just continued to glare at him, until it became too exhausting for her to do that. She collapsed back onto the sofa with a little cough, but not one nearly as hacking as the one she had given before. Sam reached out and smoothed her hair back from her face.

Meanwhile, Dean was still standing at the kitchen table, feeling helpless. Sam was doing what he should have been doing, but he didn't know how to do it. He was an intelligent man, but even he was doubtful he could have gotten that spoonful of medicine into his kid without threatening her with punishment. He felt- ashamed. Ashamed that he was helpless. He was supposed to be the father, the one who took care of his child, and all he could do was stand there and look stupid. His despairing eyes watched as Sam stood up, dropped the spoon in the sink, and went for a dishrag, soaking it in cool water. Dean stepped forward awkwardly.

"Hey," he said in a voice that sounded a lot more reassured than he felt. "What can I do?"

Sam just shook his head, oblivious to the torment his brother was in. "Nothing. I got this," Sam said reassuringly. Dean just nodded his head once, shifting his weight awkwardly. He watched as Sam gently wiped down Natalie's face with the cool rag. At first, she jerked away, but then when the relief of the coolness hit her, she stopped avoiding it, relaxing with a whimper. That made Dean's heart twist in his chest. He hadn't heard that sound from her since she was a little thing, trying to get out of taking a nap, or trying to be brave when she'd gotten hurt. He knew she was trying to be brave now- that she was really feeling like crap. His hands stretched out in front of him almost as an automatic reflex, but then he dropped them impotently. Sam had this. He wasn't needed.

After a moment, when Natalie was finally settled back down watching TV, Sam walked over to Dean, the damp dishtowel still in his hand. Sam seemed surprised to see the blank look on Dean's face. "You okay?" he asked gently, not sure what was going on with his brother. Dean nodded his head once, then threw on his typical "everything's peachy" grin.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm good," Dean said dismissively. "How did you know that she was going to have a hard time swallowing the medicine?" He tried to ask casually, but he really wanted to know. The fact that Sam may have picked up on some silent signal from Natalie that he missed was devastating to him. What wasn't he seeing? When did he miss it?

To his surprise, Sam chuckled. "Well, that's easy," he said, unknowingly making Dean feel even more like a worthless waste of space. But the next thing he said surprised the living hell out of him. "It's because she's exactly like you."

Dean started back, shocked. "What- what do you mean?"

"Do you remember that winter when you were sixteen, and you got the flu?"

"No. I never get sick."

Sam smiled at the irony of his statement. "Well, that winter, you did. You got the flu, really bad. And you hid it from me until you could barely walk. It was only when Dad called to check up on us, and I told him that you were sick, that he finally forced you to take some cough syrup." Sam chuckled to himself. At the time, he himself had been a scared twelve year old kid who had never seen his big, tough brother reduced to a feverish pile of person on a motel couch. That image had made enough of an impression on him to last a lifetime. Sam remembered every scary detail about that time. "You nearly gagged when you finally downed the meds. It was a good thing I got you water, otherwise you probably would have spewed Robitussin all over the room."

Dean had a vague glimmer of recognition in his eyes at hearing the story, but he still looked defensive. "Well, can you blame me? That crap's nasty."

"Well, that's how I knew she was going to react the same way. You two are carbon copies of each other."

Dean took a moment. Sam's words touched him to his very core, but he wasn't going to show that. Trying to keep his voice casual still, he said, "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. The way you two talk in tandem, the way she acts just like you- it's like both your brains are on the exact same wavelength."

Dean's heart, which had previously been twisting and drying into a prune inside of him, suddenly expanded. Sam didn't say stuff like that lightly. He also knew that Sam was more intuitive than just about anyone he knew. So if Sam saw it, and Sam said it... then it must be true.

Oblivious to this relieving revelation that his brother was having, Sam dropped his voice and leaned into him a bit. "We really need to get her to sleep. That's the only way she's going to get better-by resting."

"Well, it's a good chance she's going to be sick for a while, then," Dean muttered back. Trying to get Natalie to sleep was a struggle since the first moment she had made her grand appearance in this world. He quietly walked over to her. She still had the glazed over look in her eyes, but Dean could also see the exhaustion and uncomfortableness there too. He knew her face so well that he could tell what she was feeling, just by looking at it. He had, up until this moment, taken that for granted. It was so much a part of him, so engrained in him to be so in tune with her that he had never taken a moment to appreciate just what that connection meant. And in this moment, it meant everything to him. This he could do. He could finally help.

He sat down on the other end of the couch, and turned his head towards her. "Hey," he said in his gruff but gentle manner. She turned her head slightly to look at him. "Why don't you try to get some sleep?" he asked, trying to be casual. "You'll feel better if you do."

"I don't need sleep."

"Of course you don't. C'mere." He held out his arms to her, beckoning her with his hands. She looked at him. Dean could see the conflicting desires rolling through her mind. On the one hand, if she were to get closer to him and let him comfort her, she was admitting that she actually was sick, and that went against every fiber of her being. On the other hand, she really WAS sick, and the part of her that hadn't quite gotten too old for it yet really wanted her Daddy right now. She finally gave in with a sigh, and sat up. Dean leaned over, took her shoulders, and gently guided her fevered head onto his lap. He was still afraid of making her uncomfortable, with her hot head pressed against his denim clad thigh, but the second she put her head down on his lap, all her muscles seemed to relax.

Suddenly, Dean remembered her doing this as a baby. His touch could soothe her and calm her down. Gingerly, almost experimentally, he stroked her hair with his finger tips. She let out a relieved sigh, and her body went limp. Dean's heart twisted, finally catching on to how bad she really felt. Poor kid. Well, he finally knew what to do to help her. He began stroking her hair and forehead with one hand, while rubbing soothing circles on her back with the other. Just like it used to do when she was little, his touch was relaxing to her. A touchstone letting her know she was safe and loved. Within five minutes, she was fast asleep, a genuine smile on her face for the first time all day.

Dean kept running his fingers through her hair, just taking the time to appreciate this moment. In their lives, they had so few glimpses of genuine peace that, once you found one, you needed to hold on tight to it. And he wasn't going to let this one go, ever.

About half an hour later, while getting ready to go salt and burn the grave solo, Sam looked over to find his brother passed out on the couch, his hand still protectively covering his daughter's head. They both were so deeply asleep that they didn't even stir when Sam chuckled.

"Carbon copies," he whispered to himself, quietly shutting the door behind him.


	23. Ups and Downs

**Greetings my beautiful SPN Family! I hope you're all doing well! Big hugs and high fives to each and everyone of you. I cannot thank you enough again for the reviews, follows, favorites. You all hold an extremely special place in my heart. If I could, I'd send every one of you to every Con with Gold Front Row Tickets!**

 **I'm kind of in a fluffy mood lately, not to mention getting so many requests for little Natalie, so I hope you all are going to enjoy the feels. We'll have some little Natalie action coming up soon, I promise. But I hope you have fun with some fluff!**

 **Jenmm31- you rock. Thanks for being Natalie's best cheerleader, and my dear friend. I wouldn't be here without you!**

 **Thank you all again to each of you who review. I try to respond to each and every one of you. If I missed you, I sincerely apologize and want you to know how much I appreciate your time. Alright everyone- read, review, and enjoy!**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is eighteen months old. Please see Profile Page for disclaimer.**

"Up!"

"Down!"

"Up!"

"Down!"

"Up!"

"This is starting to feel like a freaking Jane Fonda video," Dean grumbled, as he hoisted his nearly thirteen month old daughter onto his lap for about the thirtieth time that hour. He and Sam had been trying to work at their laptops, doing research on their new case, but it was being constantly interrupted by Natalie. She wasn't just walking anymore; she was now running everywhere she went. Recently, she had become obsessed with being picked up and put down. She would streak over to Sam or Dean and start patting their legs or knees impatiently with her open hand. She would then declare "Up!" and hold her arms out to be picked up. If they didn't immediately oblige, she would begin repeating the word incessantly. So they would haul her up onto their laps or in their arms, where she would be content for anywhere from thirty seconds to five minutes. It really depended on...well, they weren't sure what it depended on. Natalie just had an internal clock that went off randomly, declaring it was time to get down. She would then start squirming and declaring "Down!" loudly. She would wriggle so hard if she wasn't put down immediately that both Sam and Dean had almost accidentally dropped her numerous times. It didn't seem to bother her at all though. As soon as she was down, she would go running again, occasionally stopping to play with the few toys that she had. But about five minutes later, she would be back, patting their legs, demanding their attention.

From her new vantage point, Natalie reached out for his laptop, but Dean was expecting it. He gently grabbed her hands and held them away from the keyboard. "No, Natalie," he said, almost absentmindedly as he tried to continue to read the website he was on. "You know not to touch." Natalie made a growling noise which Dean knew meant she wasn't happy about not being allowed to play with the computer. He knew it was only a matter of moments before she would start wriggling and-

"Down!"

He sighed, and set her back on the floor, where she took off running again. She dove onto the couch with a delighted giggle. Sam looked over at her and had to laugh. It certainly didn't take much for the kid. He looked back at Dean, who was rubbing his temples in an effort to concentrate. Sam smiled, because he knew exactly how Dean felt. It was tough having a baby around. Their schedules, which had always been wide open, allowing them to do their case work as they pleased, were getting more and more limited. One of them always had to stay behind to make sure Natalie was taken care of. They had usually been able to make friends with at least one person in the town they were in who didn't mind babysitting, and Natalie was a perfect little angel. No matter where they were, people were actually sorry to see them go now, since she had rounded out their threesome. Everyone who met her instantly fell under her charm. She was a very happy baby, but also an extremely hyper one. It was as if Red Bull ran through her veins instead of blood. She could function pretty well on between four to six hours of sleep, but Sam had really pushed Dean to make sure she got more than that. More often than not though, she just wasn't tired. It usually took Dean quite a while to get her calm enough to sleep, at which point, he was ready to pass out himself. He looked at the clock on his laptop- it was nearly ten. She would wear out soon- he hoped.

Sam watched as Natalie grabbed her ring of toy keys, banging them up and down on the sofa. She quickly got bored with just making noise with them. She flipped herself onto her stomach, then slid backwards off the couch, keys still in hand. She raced over to Sam and held the keys up for inspection.

"Kah!" she said, holding the keys out. Sam knew that was her way of trying to say "keys". He snickered at her.

"Keys," he said, looking right at her and over enunciating.

"Kah."

"Keys."

"Up!" she declared instead. Sam laughed, and picked her up. She didn't want to sit on his lap though. She squirmed and straightened her legs, twisting in his arms and finally stood up on his lap. She grabbed a handful of his long hair to steady herself. When she lost her balance, he let out a yelp as she tugged hard on his scalp. He grabbed her sides and steadied her, delicately removing her hand from his hair. Her other hand still had the keys in it and she waved them around now.

"Kah!" she said, and then stopped.

"Keys," Sam repeated. She seemed to be studying his mouth, trying to figure out how he said that. She waved them again, and Sam knew that meant she wanted him to repeat the word. "Keys," he said again. She tilted her head to one side, and opened her mouth. Sam watched as she tried to make her lips and tongue move the same way he did. Sam began quietly saying the word to her, as she intensely studied him. All of the sudden, he caught Dean's smirk over the top of the computer.

"What?" he said, slightly embarrassed that Dean had caught him making such ridiculous faces at his niece. Dean's smile just twisted to one side.

"Nothin', " he said. "If you can get her to say something other than Up and Down, I'll take you out for a steak dinner."

"Do other names count?" Sam asked with grin, which was met with a stern glare.

"No, " Dean growled. Sam just chuckled to himself. When she was about ten months old, Natalie's first word had been "Dada", which quickly became "Daddy". Her second word had been "Sam". Her third word, much to Dean's chagrin and Sam's delight, was "Cas".

Ever since an eventful night where the angel and the baby had managed to trash a hotel room in just under four hours, Natalie had been thrilled whenever Castiel appeared. His affection for her was obvious as well. He was showing up randomly more and more, which annoyed the living hell out of Dean, owing mostly to the fact that Cas still had no clear concept of personal space. He would just pop in and out of their lives, and Natalie would be over the moon every time he appeared. He delighted in her joy as well, and was starting to make a pretty good babysitter, once he understood that you didn't have to destroy whatever room you were in to make a baby happy. Cas was also having a wonderful time trying to teach Natalie to talk- it had become almost an obsession with him. When Sam or Dean asked about it, he would simply respond that he could give Natalie what she desired if she could tell him what it was she wanted. As simple and as logical as that sounded, Cas was still mystified at the idea that she didn't have the full lexicon of the English language at her disposal yet. He was determined to get her to say his full name. It had been a great source of amusement for Sam, watching the angel puzzle at the baby.

Sam turned his attention back to Natalie, who was still trying to form the word "Keys". She finally gave up, and bent her legs down. Sam shifted her so she was sitting on his left leg, and, keeping one arm wrapped around her waist, started typing with his right hand. Natalie's ears perked up at the sound of the keyboard, and her attention diverted towards the computer. Sam was one step ahead of her, however, having pushed the laptop out of the way of her reaching hands. She tried twice, but seeing that it was too far away, she started banging the keys on the table instead. She slammed them so hard into the table at one point, they fell out of her hands. She immediately began squirming. "Down!" she pleaded, and Sam slid her back down to the floor. She picked up the keys and ran over to Dean, banging them against his leg.

"Let me guess...up!" he said, looking down at Natalie with a wry smile. She grinned back at him, and he chuckled, lifting her up again. She scrambled up to stand on his leg, climbing up his torso to do so. She twisted so she was looking over her shoulder, and with one arm wrapped around her, Dean gave her an affectionate pat on the bottom while still trying to read the information on the website. Natalie flopped herself over his shoulder and gave a bored sigh, but then nearly knocked Dean in the back of the head as she stood bolt upright.

"Cas!" she squealed delightedly. Dean turned around quickly to see the angel standing behind him- right behind him.

"Cas, how many times do I have to tell you? Personal space!" Dean growled, before Natalie gave an annoyed squawk. When Dean had turned, it removed Cas from her line of sight, and she didn't like that. Dean rolled his eyes and flipped her around in his arms so she could see him. She made an extremely loud, if not pleased, noise at seeing the angel, causing everyone else in the room to jump back slightly at the sound.

"Down!" she commanded, trying to slide herself off of Dean's lap like she did with the couch. He barely grabbed her in time to keep her from falling butt first onto the floor, but she was already writhing, trying to get out of his hands. He finally let the little demon go, and she raced over to Castiel, plowing into his legs. He was prepared for it this time- the last time she tried that, he had fallen over in surprise, which made her laugh hysterically. Cas looked up to see Sam and Dean watching him.

"I remembered that this is how she likes to greet people," he said proudly. "I'm still standing."

"Good for you, Elton John," Dean said, turning his attention back to his laptop. Cas seemed unaffected by Dean's indifference, and looked down at the baby. Natalie was still hugging his legs, and he looked down at her fondly. He patted her head like she was a puppy.

"Hello to you too," he said. She giggled and twisted around his legs, looking up at him. "You know, it's quite endearing when she does that," he commented to Sam, who was still watching them.

"She's gonna be a heartbreaker, that's for sure," Sam said.

"Not till she's forty," Dean muttered under his breath.

"Don't be so pessimistic. I'm sure she'll begin being attracted to the opposite sex much earlier than that," Castiel said helpfully. Sam just snorted as he watched Dean's blood pressure rise. Cas turned his attention back to Natalie. "Have you learned to say my name yet, Natalie?" he asked.

"Cas!" she said in response.

"Castiel," the angel gently corrected. Natalie tilted her head, almost like she was considering answering him back with his full name.

"Cas."

"Have you been practicing my name with her like I asked you to?" Cas asked Dean.

"Oh, yeah. Every day," Dean said dryly without bothering to turn around.

"She'll get it, buddy, don't worry," Sam said. Cas nodded as Natalie started patting his leg impatiently.

"What do you want, Natalie?" Cas asked.

"Up!" she declared, and stretched her arms out to him.

He looked confused. "Up?"

"Up!"

"Well. Alright then."

Sam finished what he was reading. "Cas, she just wants- WHOA!" Sam's yell made Dean jerk his head up in surprise. Sam was staring, horrified, at the ceiling. Dean whipped around in his chair and looked at Cas, who was also looking at the ceiling. Dean followed suit and looked up.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" he hollered. Natalie was floating, midair. Cas had his fingers pointed in her direction. She seemed just as surprised as Sam and Dean, but before either of them could move, she let out a delighted squeal and clapped her hands.

"CAS! PUT HER DOWN THIS INSTANT!" Dean roared, bolting from his chair and moving underneath his daughter. Cas looked sideways at Dean.

"Of course," he said politely, and pointed his fingers slowly down. Natalie gently floated down to the floor. Sam and Dean both heaved a huge sigh of relief. Natalie, however, wasn't nearly as pleased as her father and uncle. She looked at the carpet underneath her feet like it had personally insulted her, then looked at Cas again.

"Up!" she demanded impetuously.

"Very well," he said. Before they could stop him, Cas had Natalie floating towards the ceiling again. She was kicking her feet in the air, giggling madly, clearly having the time of her life.

"Cas- I said put her DOWN!"

"Alright."

Grounded Baby.

"UP!"

"As you wish."

Floating Baby.

"Cas! What the hell did I just say?! Put her down, right freaking now!"

Grounded Baby.

"UP!"

Floating Baby.

"Stop listening to the baby and start listening to ME! Put her down NOW!"

"Would you two please make up your minds?" Castiel said, beginning to get annoyed. Dean bit back the string of curse words that he wanted to throw at the angel, and stomped over to his pouting but on the ground daughter. He lifted her up, making sure he had a tight grasp on her, just in case Cas decided to play toss the baby again. Natalie patted him on the shoulder.

"Daddy! Up!" she said, her eyes glowing. Dean just shook his head.

"Sorry, kiddo, all done with that." He glared at Cas, who looked surprised at Dean's hostility.

"I was simply giving her what she asked for," Castiel explained.

"Just keep one thing in mind- humans don't have wings for a reason," Dean growled. Natalie continued to pat him on the shoulder.

"Up, up, up, up, up!" she declared. Dean began bouncing her in his arms. He looked at the clock- great. It was after ten. Time to try to get her to sleep, and her recent angel rollercoaster ride had wound her back up. He positioned her onto his hip and started walking around the room. Cas followed him with curious eyes.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Trying to get her to calm down so she'll sleep," Dean grumbled. "Which is gonna be a pain in my ass, thanks to you." Castiel looked to Sam to see what his offense was, but Sam just pursed his lips and rolled his eyes. Cas looked back at Dean.

"I can help her sleep if you would like," he offered. Dean jerked away almost indecently fast.

"No, that's okay, I got this," he said quickly. He began bouncing Natalie more gently. She was still patting him on the shoulder and declaring up, but it was getting quieter and less frequent. When she finally stopped smacking his chest, he placed one hand on her back, pulling her into his shoulder. She turned her cheek and laid there for a moment, seeming to settle down.

"That's amazing. How did you get her so calm so quickly?" Cas asked in wonder. Dean shook his head grimly.

"We're just getting started," he mumbled. Almost on cue, Natalie popped back up. It had just dawned on her that this was the bedtime routine, and she hated bedtime, more than anything. None of them could figure out why- she just didn't have any desire to sleep, whatsoever. She pushed away from Dean, both tiny hands on his shoulder.

"No! No," she said, pushing as hard as she could. Of course, it barely fazed Dean at all. He just gently put his hand on her back, guiding her head back down to his shoulder. She immediately began squirming and whining.

"NO! Daddy, no!" she whimpered as Dean took another lap around the room.

"She doesn't appear to like that, Dean," Castiel said, his eyes growing concerned at Natalie's protests. When she heard his voice, Natalie's head whipped around, and she suddenly reached for Cas, stretching her arms out. She would have toppled right to the floor had Dean not been expecting it. He twisted expertly, pulling her back into him, bouncing her up and down, shushing into her ear.

"Cas," she mumbled, whimpering and kicking again while pressed into Dean's shoulder. Dean just kept bouncing. He made lap after lap after lap as she continued to struggle and whimper. After about three minutes of continual laps, he started humming into her ear, and her little body relaxed. Castiel watched in amazement as Natalie grew limper and limper the more Dean hummed.

"How are you doing that?" Cas asked. He tilted his head to the side, studying father and daughter. He seemed to be seeing something that he had never noticed before, but couldn't quite put his finger on what exactly it was. Natalie made another attempt to push away, but it was clearly half hearted- she was falling asleep under the hypnotic sound of Dean's voice.

"She likes it when I hum Guns and Roses songs to her," Dean explained in a quiet voice, then continued singing into the baby's ear.

"Daddy," she mumbled into his shoulder, her eyes almost closed. Dean started rubbing small circles on her back, which caused her eyes to instantly shut. Cas's mouth dropped open. For a human, he considered this an absolutely astonishing accomplishment.

"That's very impressive," he said in a whisper, not wanting to wake her up. Dean just smiled knowingly.

"Not over yet," he whispered back. About ten seconds later, Natalie suddenly pushed back from Dean, blinked sleepily twice, then collapsed back onto him with a huge sigh that seemed to say "I give up". Dean turned to Cas.

"NOW it's over," he said, a cocky grin on his face. He walked over to the couch, and laid her down, pulling her Power Rangers blanket over her. She wriggled for a moment, but a touch of Dean's hand on her forehead soothed her and she was right back under, sound asleep. Dean stood up, stretched his back out from the ache of bouncing a baby for five minutes solid, and made his way back to the computer. However, his path was impeded by the very astounded angel. He looked at Cas as if expecting him to move, but Cas simply stared right at him.

"Um, Cas? Can you...get out of my way?" Dean asked. Castiel continued to stare. "Okay, then," Dean grumbled, making a move to walk back around the couch, but Cas's voice stopped him.

"You have an unnatural bond with the child," Cas said. Dean turned around, glaring.

"What exactly do you mean by 'unnatural'?" he asked with a growl.

"I mean that you understand her. Even though she cannot speak yet."

"She talks!" Dean said, getting defensive of his daughter.

Cas shook his head. "No, you don't understand. You and she share a bond unlike none I've ever seen."

Dean stopped. He just thought he was so used to her tricks that he could anticipate them before she tried. He had never thought there was anything special in it. "Really?" he asked. His eyes wandered back to the sleeping child. His heart expanded at the sight of her little fist curled up next to her face in sleep. Her mouth was slightly parted and she seemed to be smiling. The overwhelming feeling of protectiveness surprised him again. He never thought he could feel this any stronger than he already did, even when it came to Sam. But having Natalie in his life seemed to up all the stakes. His drive to protect, to save, now had an even deeper meaning.

Castiel was nodding his head. "Really. She adores you."

That made Dean look up in surprise. "How do you know?" he said tentatively, as if he was afraid to ask.

"I'm an angel. I know things."

Dean nodded, and snorted a laugh. He looked back down at Natalie. "Yeah, she's pretty great. I guess I'll keep her," he said with a smile.

"Good. Because she is your child. It would be a wise move."

Dean just sighed and hung his head.


	24. Warriors and Princesses

**Hello to my wonderful SPN family! I hope you all are having a delightful weekend. I wanted to drop this story in here for you today, because in real time and my A/U timeline, Natalie's sixth birthday is tomorrow- April 24, 2016! So here's the story about it :)**

 **At the risk of sounding like a broken record (#sorrynotsorry) Thank you all for taking the time to read and review. Your reviews help me so much- they spark my imagination to make more Natalie stories, not to mention help me through some really rough patches. I treasure you all, you have no idea.**

 **I must also thank my Sammy- Jenmm31. She writes fantastic stories- she's got two great series with a Sister character, Kate (who is one of the best O/C's I've ever read here) as well as multiple other one shot SPN stories that are wonderful. She's also got a great Grey's Anatomy series too! And she's the best beta, cheerleader, and all around good person too!**

 **One more little side note from me, then I swear I'll shut up and let Natalie do the talking. I dedicate this one-shot to the artist, Prince. Back when I very first started playing around with writing stories, I would listen to music while I wrote. I was writing a scene where one character was wrestling with expressing his love for another character and having a really hard time with it, when the song "Purple Rain" came on the radio. The words started to flow, listening to his song. To this day, I have never felt such a deep connection to music and story and feeling as I did when I was writing that section, listening to that song. So Prince, thank you for your inspiration. RIP.**

 **Enough from me! Read, review, and enjoy!**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is just about to turn 6. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap, tap...Dean felt a tiny finger tapping on his knee incessantly. He moved his car magazine to one side to find his five year old daughter boring a hole in him with her inquisitive green eyes. Even though he was making eye contact with her, the tapping didn't stop. She just stood there, one little finger jabbing his knee over and over and over. He looked up across the room, to see his brother watching the two of them, his own grin plastered on his face as he worked from his laptop. They had been at Bobby's for about three days now, just taking a break. They had been going pretty hard core recently, and had been away from home for about a month. That didn't sit well with Dean, so he and Sam had talked and agreed to stay home for a good long while this time. They were enjoying the peace and quiet. Or, at least, had been enjoying it when the tapping started.

"Yes?" he asked in a joking tone. "May I help you?"

The tapping stopped. "We need to talk," Natalie said.

Dean couldn't help but grin at her serious tone of voice. "Alright then. Let's talk." Before he could say another word, however, Natalie hauled herself up on the sofa next to him, and then climbed onto his lap. He dropped the magazine on the couch away from her, seeing that she was going to be demanding all of his attention on this one. She sat facing him, her knees pressing into the tops of his thighs as she sat back on her feet. He put his hands on either side of her, just to make sure she didn't fall. She reached up and put both hands on either side of his face. She gently pulled his face towards her, and looked him straight in the eye with That Look. The one she had clearly learned from him. _Whoa,_ thought Dean with a smile, _she means business._

"This is very, very serious, Daddy," she said in a solemn tone.

Dean nodded, while managing to put on a straight face. "Let me guess. You've finally decided to move in with your boyfriend."

Natalie shot him a bitch face- _damn Sam for teaching her that,_ Dean thought- but then couldn't keep the giggle from escaping her lips. She quickly stifled it, and cocked her head to one side.

"No! I am not moving in with my boyfriend!" she said in precocious five year old fashion.

"Are you sure? You two are getting pretty serious."

"Nope. He has to put a ring on it first," she said, her own face becoming a mask of sarcasm. At that, Sam snorted loudly. Dean never knew how he himself managed it, but he kept a perfectly straight face. His kid was hilarious. Must have gotten that from him. Natalie tightened her grip on her father's face, reemphasizing the gravitas behind the situation.

"Next week, the most important thing in your life is happening," she said, making sure to look him right in the eye when she said it, trying to get him back on track.

Dean knew exactly what she was alluding to, but he couldn't help himself. It was like he had an inner drive to mess with people who were trying to be serious, even if it was a five year old girl. He nodded, pretending to think. "Ah yes," he said finally. "It's free pretzel day at the mall. Thank you for reminding me."

Natalie knew her father well enough to know that he was just playing with her. She giggled again. "No! It's my birthday!" she squealed delightedly.

"Oh, right. Of course. And who are you again?"

"Daddy!" she said with a laugh, but she slapped her hands down on her thighs. Dean could sense that she was just about at the end of her patience with him, so he wiped the confused look off his face and smiled at her instead.

"Alright, squirt. So yeah, I know it's your birthday next week. You gonna tell me that you want a pony or something?"

"Nope. But I do know what I want."

"Excellent. Makes my job easier. And what do you want?"

"I want two things."

"Really."

"Yup. I want an Elsa doll, and a light saber."

That threw Dean for a loop. "Wow. That's...wow."

"Uh huh. I want a purple light saber, and an Elsa Barbie doll that can sing."

"They make those?"

"Which one? Light saber or doll?"

"A...singing...doll."

"Yup. She's really sparkly and pretty too."

All of the sudden, a terrible image popped into Dean's mind. He pictured himself at a toy store, facing a wall of sparkly pretty singing Disney princess dolls. Thousands of them. Natalie had been obsessed with that stupid Frozen movie from the first time she watched it, so unfortunately for him, Dean knew exactly which one she was talking about when she said "Elsa". He still remembered the car ride where they had had to endure what seemed like hours of that damn song. And now, the thought of a thousand singing, glittering dolls invaded his mind. He inhaled sharply, at the exact same moment that Sam did. He locked eyes with his brother. Instantly, he knew they were both thinking the same dreaded thought. One of them had to get the light saber- the other one was stuck getting the doll.

His eyes narrowed at Sam. _Don't you dare,_ he thought at his brother with a mental snarl. Before he could throw any more intimidation into the look he was giving him, Sam bolted out of his chair and away from the desk, snatching the Impala keys sitting on the table by the front door. Dean briefly considered yanking Natalie up from his lap and chasing Sam down, but Sam already had a head start. Plus, he had shoes on. Dean gritted his teeth as he heard the car door slam. He banged his head back on the sofa with an angry sigh."Dammit," he hissed under his breath.

Natalie looked in wonder at the front door, Sam's sudden departure a mystery to her. "What's Uncle Sam doing?"

"Screwing me over."

"What's that mean?"

"Not important." Dean took a deep breath. He was going to kill Sam for sticking him with this one. He inhaled, tried to speak, then just exhaled again, finding he couldn't do it. He finally summoned all his courage, and raised his head, looking his daughter right in the eye.

"Okay. Tell me more about this doll thing."

*SPN SPN SPN*

The next day, Dean pulled into the parking lot of the mega store. He hated places like this- Wal-Marts, Targets, whatever. Places like this made him shudder. He parked far away, towards the back of the lot- he knew how these soccer moms drove- and made sure the Impala was nowhere near any minivan or station wagon. He reluctantly trudged inside, hating every step he took. He thought bitterly of Sam's return yesterday- how he had made sure that Natalie was nowhere near, before smugly showing Dean the purple light saber he had purchased. He had chuckled gleefully at the disgusted look on Dean's face.

"Have fun in the doll aisle," he had said. "Hey- is this the first time you're going to be getting a doll that doesn't need to be blown up first?" Not being able to immediately come up with his usual witty retort, Dean just responded with a solid punch to Sam's chest.

He now looked around the store, hoping that the toy section would be close. That way, he could just grab the doll and get the hell out of there. No such luck. After wandering around for a good minute, which felt like an eternity, he found the toy section- at the back of the store. This was why he hated places like this.

"Geez, you think they could make it easy on us poor suckers," he growled to himself. When he was a kid, he didn't have time for toys. And if Sam wanted anything, it was whatever they could find at whatever gas station their dad stopped at or no dice. He was completely out of his element here, and he hated that. He looked quickly to his right and his left to make sure there were no hot chicks around, and dove into the doll aisle. When he looked up, it was exactly like he thought. His nightmare was a reality, right in front of him. The wall of pink sequined plastic dolls was enormous. And he was trapped.

"I'm in hell," he muttered under his breath. "I'm back in hell. And it has Frozen over."

*SPN SPN SPN*

Dean had purchased the damn doll as quickly as he had been able to, despite the cashier's gushing, oohing and aahing at "how precious it was" and "what a sweet daddy". Barf. He had made her double bag the toy, and he had practically sprinted to the parking lot, shoving the bag into the hidden compartment in the trunk, praying that he could keep it hidden until the big day.

The morning of Natalie's birthday finally arrived. She bound out of bed way before either of the boys, as she was wont to do anyways, and tore down the stairs towards the kitchen. She stopped short at the foot of the stairs, not wanting Bobby to catch her running. She skipped into the kitchen, where, sure enough, he was waiting with pancakes, her favorite breakfast.

"Happy Birthday, Little Bit!" Bobby said, in his gruff but kind manor. She giggled and climbed into his lap, throwing her arms around his weathered neck.

"Thanks, Pops!" she said, hugging him fiercely.

"I think it's time you got a Birthday spanking!" he said jokingly, grabbing her and acting like he was going to twist her around and deliver. She pushed away from him, pursing her lips like she was trying not to laugh.

"Try it and I'll scratch your eyes out."

Bobby couldn't help it- she was so damn funny when she said stuff like that. He started laughing. "Is that anyway for a young lady to talk?" he mock scolded her.

"It is if you're going to try to spank me," she retorted sassily, putting her hands on her hips and glaring at him in her no-nonsense way. She then tilted her head and gave him a saucy grin, which made him laugh even harder. Just then, a bleary eyed Dean walked into the kitchen.

"Daddy!" she squealed, and bolted off Bobby's lap. Unfortunately, her tiny foot connected with a certain part of his anatomy as she was catapulting off of him.

"Ouch! Dammit!" he hissed. "Figures. The kid finds the one place on my lower half that still has feeling." He shook his head affectionately, and watched Dean reach down and pick up his squirming six year old.

"Happy Birthday, squirt," Dean said sleepily. Natalie wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a sloppy kiss on his unshaven cheek.

"Thank you!" she squealed, not realizing how loud she was being. Dean just shut his eyes, trying to stop the ringing in his ears. "Why are you up already?" she asked.

"I heard what was either an elephant tap dancing down the stairs, or you getting up," he said with a sarcastic grin. Bobby had been wheeling his way towards the dining table, the platter of pancakes on his lap.

"How many times do I have to tell you, Natalie? Don't run down the stairs," he scolded for real this time as he deposited the platter on the table. Natalie dropped her head onto Dean's shoulder, but continued to look at Bobby.

"But it's my birthday!" she protested.

"Ain't going to keep you from breaking your leg if you hit one of those steps wrong. Now quit running down them."

"Sorry, Pops," she mumbled. She snapped her head up and glared at Dean. "Pops said he was gonna give me a birthday spanking," she tattled to her father. Dean just snorted and looked at Bobby, who shrugged and grinned back.

"I wouldn't try," Dean said. "She'll scratch your eyes out."

"So I've been told," he replied dryly. Just then, Sam joined the party in the kitchen.

"Happy Birthday, Bug," he said, wiping the sleep out of his eyes. Natalie wriggled out of Dean's grasp. He set her down just long enough for her feet to hit the floor before Sam scooped her up and tossed her in the air. She squealed with delight again, and Sam pulled her close, kissing her on the top of her head. She responded with a quick squeeze around the neck, then her eyes lit up, and they began dancing back and forth between Sam and Dean. Dean schooled his features into his typical stoic mask, watching her begin to squirm in anticipation. Sam just grinned at Dean. He loved watching his brother mess with his niece. It was hilarious, and nice to not be on the receiving end of it for once. He could feel the excitement building up in Natalie. He quickly slid her back down to the ground, knowing that it was only a matter of moments before she would explode. She clasped her hands behind her back and began to rock back and forth on her heels, tilting her head adorably at Dean. He crossed his arms, pretending not to be phased by the onslaught of cuteness she was throwing his way. Father and Daughter had a pretend stare off for a second. Sam and Bobby exchanged a quick, amused glance.

Finally Dean broke the silence. "What?" he asked gruffly, with a theatrical shrug.

Natalie just bit her lip and giggled.

"Do you want something?" Dean said blankly, not letting even one corner of his mouth break rank and smile.

Natalie began twisting back and forth harder, making her eyes go wider. Sam hadn't thought it was possible, but with those two actions, she just upped her cuteness factor by tenfold. "Yeeeeeeees," she drawled.

"Okay. What?" Dean said, fixing his daughter with his stoic look, matching her willpower to not be the first to crack.

"Can I have my presents now? Pleeeeeeease?" she said, taking a bouncy step towards him, still twisting away.

"Oh. Presents. Yeah, we all forgot to get you those, sorry," he said, wrinkling his nose in an effort to look bored.

Natalie just giggled impishly. "No you didn't," she said in her little princessy voice.

"And what makes you think that?"

"Because you're too awesome to forget about me."

Dean looked up at Sam, the barely contained laugh in his eyes. "Kid's got a point." He reached around the door frame, and picked up the wrapped box he had hidden there before walking into the kitchen. "Here ya go, squirt," he said, handing it to her. She shrieked in delight and grabbed the package, tossing it on to the table and clambering up into her chair. Sam laughed again, and went to retrieve his own gift, which he had hidden in the kitchen pantry the night before. Bobby wheeled himself over to the pantry as well. Apparently, he'd had the same idea of a hiding place as Sam did.

"Shouldn't we wait to give her her presents tonight? With the cake and all?" Bobby whispered to Sam. Sam just snorted in response.

"Are you kidding? She'll tear apart the house looking for them if we don't deliver up front. Don't you remember how well we had to hide everything at Christmas?"

"Oh yeah," the old man said, shaking his head at the memory of the five year old tornado last December. Every nook and cranny had been meticulously searched. They had found stacks of furniture in front of possibly hiding locations all over the house, owing to the fact that she was too short to reach most of the places she thought they'd hidden her presents. She had even torn the couch cushions apart, which got her in big trouble, but she didn't care as long as she could find those packages. It had only been by a very well planned group effort that she didn't find all of them. Man, when this kid wanted something, God help whatever stood in her way. They both retrieved their presents from the highest shelf where they had strategically placed heavy bags of flour underneath that she couldn't move or climb on. Sam wheeled Bobby over to the table, where Natalie was sitting up in her chair, practically writhing in anticipation. Sam placed both packages on the table, and then sat down. Natalie looked around the table.

"This is the best birthday EVER!" she declared. All three men chuckled at her.

"You haven't even opened anything yet, Bug," Sam said with a smile.

"I know! But you're all here, so that makes it the best ever," she declared simply with a sweet smile. Dean heart twisted at her words. They had been on the road for her fifth birthday, and even though they had called Bobby, it was clear she had been missing him. She was such a great kid- he knew deep inside that it wasn't the presents that mattered- it was the fact that they were there that was the most important to her. Before he really let the chick flick moment get much deeper than that, he spoke up.

"Hey! Less yappin', more unwrappin'!" he said jokingly. That was all the permission the now six year old needed. She reached out and grabbed Bobby's present. She went through the typical routine of shaking it seven ways to Sunday before she ripped off the wrapping paper. Inside was a small, leather bound journal.

"That's to record all the things you're learning about with your studies and stuff," Bobby said gruffly. "It's your own journal."

"Wow," she whispered, turning it over in her hands. "Just like Grandpa's! Thanks Pops!" she said, giving him a face splitting grin. He just nodded once, not wanting to show how much her excitement meant to him. Dean caught the old man's eye, and nodded once in thanks.

Natalie reached across the table, and picked up Sam's gift. He just smirked at Dean, his victory over his brother still bringing him pleasure. Natalie tore off the paper, revealing the purple light saber within. She let out a loud shriek of pleasure, and jumped off her chair, swinging it around before even getting it out of the packaging.

"Hold on there, Jedi Warrior," Sam said, laughing. He plucked it out of her hands. She whined for a second before she realized that Sam was just removing the cardboard and plastic zip ties. He made quick work of it, then handed it back.

"Thanks, Unca Sam!" she said excitedly. "It's the bestest!" She began swinging it around again, causing all of the men at the table to duck as she began combating the Dark Forces that were apparently all around them. Dean made a mental note- _teach her how to light saber fight._ She played with it for so long, that Dean finally cleared his throat.

"Hey," he said. She stopped and stared at him. "You got one more to go, kiddo."

"Oh yeah!" she said, climbing back into her chair. She placed her new light saber carefully on the table, before reaching over and grabbing the last one. Her eyes got very wide, and she looked up at Dean, almost fearfully. He wasn't sure why, but she slowly started to tear off the paper, almost as if she was afraid to see what was underneath it. She slowly unveiled the box containing the stuff of Dean's nightmares- a singing Elsa doll. But instead of jumping for joy or even smiling, she just stared at it.

Dean instantly panicked. Had he gotten the wrong one? No, that one was Elsa- he was sure. And it sang and all that crap. So why wasn't she freaking out like she did with the other gifts?

"Natalie?" he asked, trying to keep the fear out of his voice. "Are you...what's the matter?"

She looked up at him. To his immense surprise, there were tears shining in her excited green eyes. Her smile had lit up her entire face. "Daddy- it's _perfect,_ " she whispered. In that instant, everything he had gone through to get that stupid doll became worth it. She picked it up and hugged it to her, box and all.

"Want me to open it for you?" he asked. Natalie hopped down off her chair. She walked over to Dean and handed him the box. But before he could open it, she crawled up into his lap, and threw her arms around his neck.

"Thank you," she whispered sweetly into his ear. He just smiled, and squeezed her tight.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Later that day, Dean walked up to Natalie's room. She had been playing by herself for about an hour, which was pretty unusual. She was forever wanting them to play with her, but this time, she had declared she was going to play alone. He wanted to make sure that she was okay. Ever since she had opened her Elsa doll, she hadn't put it down for a moment, thrilled to death with her new treasure. She was completely absorbed with every aspect of the doll, and she had already played the song on it so many times Dean thought they'd have to change out the battery after just one day. As he got to the top of the stairs, he heard her in her room. But when he heard what she was saying, he stopped in his tracks. Without a sound, he bound back down the stairs. Sam was sitting at the desk again, working on his laptop.

"Dude," Dean hissed excitedly. "You gotta see this."

"What?" Sam said, looking up from the computer.

"Just come here," Dean insisted. Sam stood up and followed his brother back up the stairs. They snuck up towards Natalie's door, and listened. Sam couldn't resist- he peeked around the door frame. Natalie was sitting in the middle of the floor, her new doll in one hand, and a handful of green army soldiers and action figures were strewn about. For some reason, she had Batman in the middle of a...Sam's eyes widened as it registered what she'd drawn on the floor with colored chalk.

Sam turned back to Dean, his eyes incredulous. "Dude...she's drawn-"

"A devil's trap," Dean whispered back proudly. "And she's done a damn good job of it too." They both peeked around the corner again. She was whispering words in a Latin incantation. Sam just looked at Dean again, his eyes wide. Dean was nodding, his heart practically bursting. She was playing Exorcism.

"She can't read Latin!" Sam whispered to Dean, still stunned.

"She must have memorized it," Dean said with a shrug. It didn't entirely surprise him- she had certainly overheard them practicing enough. She was incredibly bright, picking things up at the drop of a hat. He felt a surge of pride- HE didn't even have all the exorcisms memorized. He couldn't help but peek again. She was using the Elsa doll to be the hunter. She was being very careful to say the words exactly right, and he watched as she finished the exorcism, and released the Batman action figure from the devil's trap.

"You're safe now," she had the princess doll say to the superhero. Dean didn't want this moment to end for anything. Digging in his pocket, he found his cell, and quietly snapped a picture. He just grinned and continued watching his little warrior princess play.


	25. Snow Day

**Hello my gorgeous SPN Family! I'm not going to be long winded here, but I did want to update it before the weekend. So- anyone else's mind blown by this week's SPN? Holy crap.**

 **This story is a request from xxmadddiExx- she wanted to see Natalie interacting with some other kids. Girl, I hope you like it! Thank you for being such a great reader and supporter!**

 **Special thanks as always to Jenmm31. She has an amazing talent for story writing as well as being the best Beta EVER, y'all. Go check out her fabulous stories, and show her some love. She deserves it.**

 **Alright wonderful people. You all have been so brilliant, reviewing, PM-ing, even just reading. You all are marked on my heart, and I thank you. So please read, review, and enjoy! You all are the best.**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is 6. Please see Profile for disclaimer.**

"Would you slow down?!"

"Quit side seat driving. We aren't going that fast."

"Ever heard of black ice?"

"Ever heard of shutting your pie hole?"

"Dean- we survived the Apocalypse. We BOTH came back from Hell. And you're going to wreck it all by wrapping us around a telephone pole."

Dean tapped on the brakes of the Impala. Without looking at Sam, he said, "There. You happy now?" Sam just shook his head as Dean continued to barrel down the wintry road. He looked behind him to make sure his six year old niece was okay. She, of course, was blissfully ignorant of the breakneck speed in which her father was hurtling down the snowy highway. She was curled up sideways, her knees bent, and her feet resting on the hump of the backseat, completely absorbed in her book. Sam double checked that she had her seatbelt on, which she did.

Dean had given her a book of lore to start reading as part of her hunter's training. Since they had decided to pull her out of public school and take her on the road with them full time, Sam had finally capitulated about keeping her from the hunting life. After a rather nasty incident at Bobby's house, he couldn't deny anymore that Natalie was safest with Dean and himself. And because she was going to be with them all the time now, it only made sense that she was armed with as much knowledge as the two of them were, seeing as none of them ever knew just what they might encounter. Sam had always been opposed to Natalie learning all about their hunting lifestyle, mostly because of the effect that it had had on him as a child. However, he had forgotten one very essential fact in the whole situation- Natalie was DEAN'S child.

Just like Dean did all his life, Natalie soaked up everything she could about hunting. She knew what angels were before she could form complete sentences. She knew all about the monsters that actually lurked under the bed by the time she was four. She adored her father, wanting to be just like him. Sam would often catch her watching Dean, a quizzical look on her face, as if she was studying him, trying to learn exactly how he moved, thought, talked, and any other details she could catch. At the age of six, she was already a miniature version of him, but with a penchance for princesses thrown in with the love of all things supernatural and superheroes.

Sam turned back around in the front seat, and realized a smile was spreading across his face, thinking about his niece. She was a handful, an explosive bundle of frenetic energy, but he would be lying to himself if he said he hadn't sorely missed her during the year she was in kindergarten. Between the knowledge that she was safe and the joy of having her around, Sam was starting to feel...whole. Good. Real. It was an unusual feeling, but one that he had searched for his entire life. It was thrilling to finally have a taste of it.

The joyful moment was instantly shattered by the Impala's back tires fishtailing for a second as Dean hit a patch of black ice, shaking Sam unpleasantly from his happy thoughts. Dean expertly turned into the swerve, and the car was righted almost instantly, but it was enough to set Sam off again.

"Dude- could you just slow it down a little?! Please?! For god sakes, your child is in the backseat!"

Dean looked up in the rearview mirror to find Natalie's wide green eyes staring back at him. "You okay, squirt?" he asked.

"That was fun! Do it again!" she squealed excitedly. Dean just turned to Sam, a superior smug grin on his face. Sam ignored him, turning back to his niece.

"How's the reading going?" he asked, trying to distract himself from the icy death he was sure was just moments away. Natalie looked up from her book, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"It. Is. AWESOME," she said dramatically. Sam just chuckled.

"What are you reading about now?"

"About djinns. Man, there's some messed up stuff."

"Tell me about it," Dean muttered under his breath.

"Have you guys ever found one?" Natalie asked, not hearing her father's utterance. Sam looked sideways at Dean, silently asking his permission to tell her the story. Dean gave him a short jerk of the head; his indication that he was good to go. Sam launched into the story of Dean and the Dijnn. He downplayed the gore, still not convinced that the six year old child needed to know every bloody and graphic detail. Natalie listened to the tale, her eyes wide. She occasionally gasped or asked questions if she didn't understand something, but for the most part, she was quiet, just absorbing all the knowledge she could. Sam was an excellent storyteller and teacher, and she was a six year old sponge.

Just as he was finishing the story, telling about how he had rescued her father from the dijnn's grasp, Dean pulled into a motel right in the heart of the downtown area of their next case. Natalie had her seatbelt unbuckled in a flash, and was about to throw the door open and go charging out of the car, when Sam's voice stopped her.

"Put your coat on; it's freezing out there," he said gently. She obeyed, pulling her bright pink parka off the seat beside her and yanking it on before barreling out of the car. She stayed by the door, knowing that Dean wouldn't be pleased if she started running around immediately, especially in a parking lot. She had gotten in trouble plenty of times for that, and wasn't anxious to repeat the experience. She was bouncing up and down, though, thrilled to be free of the confines of the Impala and work out some of her energy overflow, when she heard a sound that made her stop. It sounded like other kids' voices coming from somewhere. She looked around, but she couldn't see anybody nearby. No one was in the parking lot or walking along the sidewalks of the motel.

"Uncle Sam?" she asked as Sam was getting out of the car himself. "Do you hear that?"

Sam listened for a moment. His ears picked up on the sound of children's voices, and his head turned towards the east. "Yeah, Bug, I do. I think it's coming from behind the motel."

"Can I go look and see what it is?"

"In a second, Nat," Dean answered instead, walking around to her side of the car. "We gotta get checked in first." He watched as she bit her lip, considering what he said. Dean wondered if she was about to start whining that she wanted to go see the source of noise now, but instead, she slipped her tiny hand into his big one.

"Yes, sir," she said, no trace of whining or brattiness in her voice.

"That's my girl," he said, squeezing her hand lightly, proud of her for obeying him. She was such a damn good kid. Hard to believe she was his sometimes. Because she had behaved so well, Dean took her with him to the front desk, trying to speed through the check in process so they could go exploring together. He collected their room keys, and, with a firm grip on her hand just in case she slipped on the icy sidewalk, father and daughter walked out to Sam waiting by the Impala. All three of them made their way to the room together. She even helped by carrying her own little duffel bag in. She tried hoisting the weapons bag out of the trunk, but seeing as she could barely reach the trunk- not to mention the bag being about as heavy as she was- she was unsuccessful.

"Here- let me get that for ya, squirt," Dean said with a chuckle, lifting the bag swiftly and smoothly over her head as she struggled to even get a grip around one strap of it.

"I almost had it," she said, folding her arms, a displeased look on her face as she followed him to the room.

"Sure you did."

"I did!"

"Nun-uh."

"Yes- huh!"

"Nun-uh!"

"Yes- HUH!" Once inside the room, Dean suddenly tossed the bag to the side. He spun around at lightning speed, grabbed Natalie, and tossed her in the air. She screamed with shock, and then shrieked with delight at her father's playfulness. Dean pulled her down so her nose was touching his while she dangled in the air above him.

"Nun-uh," he said, finishing up their "argument". She giggled delightedly, and Dean tossed her onto one of the beds. She bounced for a moment, and then jumped full force off of it, landing on the floor agily. She held up her hands like she had just completed the world's best gymnastics floor exercises at the Olympics, making both Sam and Dean laugh. She then looked at them, fully expecting them to give her fake high scores.

Knowing exactly what she wanted, Sam chuckled. "I would have given you a ten, but you didn't point your toes," he said, teasing her.

"Ooooo, burned by the Russian judge," Dean joked, pretending to bite his closed fist, acting afraid of what retaliation the little gymnast would take. In true Winchester fashion, Natalie just scoffed and waved Sam off.

"You're just jealous because I'm AWESOME," she said in a cocky voice, sounding, once again, exactly like Dean, who turned to his brother with the same cocky grin his daughter was now sporting.

"Can't argue with the kid there, Sammy. So- you wanna go into town and start shaking the trees while I stay here with the ankle biter?"

"If it means I don't have to get back in the car with you going at a breakneck speed in the dead of winter, then hell yes."

Dean rolled his eyes at Sam's attitude, but turned to the still bouncing up and down six year old. "Alright you little monkey. Let's go see what that was behind the motel," he said, zipping his coat up against the cold and snow outside, and looked at Natalie to make sure her own coat was still zipped up. She squealed in excitement, and ran over to Sam quickly, hugging him around the legs.

"Bye, Uncle Sam! Good luck on your research!" Before he could even say "thanks", she was tearing towards the door, jumping up and down, waiting for Dean. "Daddy! Come on!" she said, her voice exploding with excitement.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," he said, pretending to be annoyed by the whole thing, but secretly excited too. He put his worn out leather gloves on, and watched his daughter copy his movements, pulling her own bright blue mittens with those dumb Disney princesses on them on. He walked over towards the door. Just as he was about to open it, Sam called after him.

"Make sure she keeps her gloves on."

"Thanks, Mom."

Dean took Natalie by the hand, made sure he had the room key in his pocket, and opened the door. As he expected, she darted outside, almost yanking her arm out of the socket, pulling Dean along. He just smirked and let himself be dragged by the six year old. "Hey, hey- where's the fire?" he joked. She didn't answer, but just kept pulling him. They got around to the backside of the motel. When they saw what was back there, about a block away, Natalie's face lit up in excitement. It was a fully stocked playground, complete with a handful of hyper, noisy kids, just like her. Since they were so close to the downtown area, Dean figured this must be the backside of the town's park or something. He had to wonder at the wisdom of whoever decided to build a playground so close to a motel, but his thoughts were interrupted by the constant tugging on his hand as they made their way towards the child's plastic labyrinth.

"Can we go play? Please?" Natalie begged, putting on her best puppy dog eyes. Dean grinned. _Damn Sam for teaching her that look,_ he thought to himself.

"Sure thing, squirt. Just stay where I can see you." He looked around as they trotted towards the playground, trying to locate a bench to park it on, but Natalie kept tugging on his hand.

"No- can you play with me, please?"

Dean looked down at her. "Why don't you go play with the kids over there?" he asked, nodding his head towards a group that looked like they were about her age. Suddenly, his hyperactive six year old firecracker stopped walking and got very quiet. She looked over at the kids playing, crawling in and out of the jungle gym. Dean was surprised to see that there was almost a trace of fear in her eyes. She looked the group up and down, but turned back towards him.

"I would like to play with you, please," she said quietly, taking a small step in towards him. Dean was a little thrown. He knew she didn't like her classmates at kindergarten, and hadn't really made any friends there, but wasn't the playground code universal? If you were on a playground, all bets were off, and you played with whoever was there, no questions asked. But for some reason, she was nervous. He wished Sam was there to help navigate his way through this one- he was way better with this touchy feely crap than Dean was. But since Sam was busy at their jobs, Dean bucked up and did the best he could.

"Sure thing, kiddo. We can play together. What do you want to play?"

She looked around at the piles of snow that were still on the ground. "Let's build a snowman! Like Elsa does!" she squealed excitedly. Dean had to bite back a groan. Of COURSE she would want to do something "Frozen". Between the mittens, her dolls, and that freaking soundtrack, he was so over it. He made a mental note to track down whoever it was that wrote that damned movie and kill them, preferably slowly and painfully. But it made his kid happy, so there was only one this to do. He put on his best excited face for her.

"Hell yeah, let's build a snowman! You wanna name him Owen, too?" making- what was for Dean- an extreme effort. Unfortunately for him, it was in vain.

Natalie just looked at him like he has said the dumbest thing in the world. She put her hands on her hips scornfully. "Daddy. It's OLAF, not O-WEN."

"Whatever," he grumbled, making his way towards one of the larger snow drifts.

The two of them got down to the business of building a snowman, with plenty of snowball fighting in between. He would tease her and send a snow ball flying at her hand, trying to distract her from whatever she was doing. She would immediately retaliate by nailing him in the shoulder or the back with her own little snow missile. Natalie was proving to be a really good shot. Dean wondered if it wasn't time to take her out onto the gun range-just to see what she could do- when he caught her staring at the kids playing on the jungle gym, a look of longing in her eye. He knelt down next to her, and playfully nudged her.

"You can go play with them if you want to. It's okay," he said with a grin, but eying her speculatively. She just bit her lip and turned away from the playground, essentially denying that that was what she actually wanted. "Hey," Dean said, pulling her focus back around towards him and poking her in the nose with his gloved finger. "What's up? Why don't you wanna go play with them?" Natalie just shrugged, and looked down at the ground. He put his finger under her chin and tilted it up so she would look at him. "Don't give me that," he said gently but firmly. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

Natalie took a breath, but then clamped her lips shut again. Dean raised an eye brow at her, and she tried to speak. This time, she was able to quietly stammer out the words. "What if...what if they don't like me?" she whispered, a tremor of fear in her voice.

Dean spread his hands wide in a _what are you talking about_ gesture. "What's not to like?"

She shrugged again, but then spoke. "I don't know. Maybe they don't...like that I'm new, or they don't like what I play or something." At the end of her statement, her eyes dropped back to the ground, and she kicked a small drift of snow with the toe of her boot.

Dean really didn't know what to say. She had a point. Kids could be nasty- he remembered that all too well- and he didn't want his little girl to get hurt or rejected by some punk ass brats. However, he also knew that he couldn't let her be scared of this. He didn't want her growing up afraid to talk to new people. Otherwise, she'd end up a total loner with all the moving around that they did. He had to push her to try to talk to them.

"Well- think about it like this," he said, praying that the right words would come out of his mouth. "They're all new to you too. If you don't like them, you don't have to play with them. No harm, no foul. But maybe one of them likes Frozen, just like you do, and wants to play it with you."

Natalie looked up at him, her green eyes wide. "Don't you like playing Frozen with me?" she asked innocently.

"Oh yeah- of course. Nothing better," he said quickly, not wanting her to think that he was trying to push her off. That was the last thing he ever wanted to do. "But let's face it- I kind of suck at it," he said with a self depreciating shrug. When he said that, Natalie giggled a bit, the tension broken. He put on a mock frown and glowered playfully in her direction. "Hey. Respect your elders. Don't laugh at me, you little punk." This of course, only made her laugh harder. Dean's face broke into a grin. He reached out and took her tiny hands in his. "Listen up. You are awesome. Any kid would be lucky to play with you. If you don't like it, fine- you come right back to me and we'll keep building snowmen till we're both frozen. But you should go show them how awesome you are. They deserve to know."

She listened intently to him as he was speaking, her eyes never leaving his face. When he was done with his little speech, she looked at the kids playing, then looked back at him. Suddenly, a dazzling smile crossed her face. "Okay," she said shyly, and without so much as a how-do-you-do, she took off running for the pack of kids. Dean laughed as he watched her tear across the playground. He stood up, brushing the snow off his knees, and looked around again for a bench closer to the action where he could keep his eyes on the little monkey. He started walking towards one, when he caught sight of the little pink parka stopping. He looked back at Natalie, who was watching him curiously. He pointed to the bench where he was heading. She nodded that she understood, and waved at him before taking back off towards the kids. He plopped himself down, grinning, as Natalie cautiously approached the group on the jungle gym.

Natalie twisted her mittened hands together in nervousness. She really wanted to play with them- they looked like they were having fun. But none of the kids in her class had been fun, so she really didn't know how to play with anyone else other than Sam and Dean, or even occasionally Bobby or Cas. She really hoped these kids weren't stupid like her former classmates. She walked tentatively over, hovering on the edge of the group. One of the boys who had been walking around the lower part of the two story structure saw her, but didn't say anything. He just turned back towards the jungle gym and started climbing on the rope ladder that lead to the upper level of the plastic playground. Natalie bit her lip as she felt the rejection wash over her. She was just about to turn and bolt, when another little girl jumped out the window from the second level, landing right beside her. Natalie looked, shocked, at the new girl. She was brave enough to jump OFF the jungle gym. She instantly felt a kindred spirit with this girl. She had snapping blue eyes and curly brown hair that was pulled into two pigtails on either side of her head. Natalie knew that the girl was also older than her, but she wasn't sure by how much. However, the most important thing Natalie noticed was the bright purple scarf with Anna and Elsa on it.

"Hi!" the child said brightly. "My name's Captain Maddi. What's yours?"

Natalie gulped in nervousness, but answered bravely. "Natalie." As she didn't know what else to say, she held out her mittened hand to Maddi, showing her the Frozen emblem on it. "I like Frozen."

"Oh, cool! I have them on my scarf!" The child excitedly pulled out a corner of her scarf, showing Natalie the design. "Welcome to my pirate ship."

That made Natalie giggle. "This is your pirate ship?"

Maddi nodded importantly. "Yup! This is the USS Snow Surfer." Maddi gestured proudly to the jungle gym behind her. Natalie' mouth dropped open in delight.

"That is the coolest name for a ship, EVER," she declared, delighted that Maddi wasn't dumb like the rest of kindergarten.

"I know," said Maddi. "Wanna be on my crew?" Natalie nodded vigorously. "Awesome! You can man the wheel. Come on. I want you to meet your shipmates." Maddi made sure Natalie was following her, ran towards the backside of the jungle gym to the slick metal slide, and scurried up it. Natalie instantly knew she had found her soul mate- she loved going up slides backwards. When Maddi reached the top, she turned around to help Natalie up, but Natalie was already right behind her. "Whoa. You're a good climber. How old are you?"

"I'm six."

"That's cool. Jake is six too. He's the lookout."

"How old are you?"

"I'm eight."

"WOW."

"I know. Come on!" Maddi grabbed Natalie's hand and scrambled through the twists and turns of the playground, till she reached a part that apparently was designated as the crow's nest. "Here you go. This is Jake." Natalie took in the sight of the boy who was taking his role very seriously. The scrawny little kid with the dark hair and dark eyes was watching the playground intently, but when he heard his captain's voice, he turned and looked her up and down. Natalie felt her nerves come alive again under the boy's scrutiny.

"How old are you?" Jake demanded of Natalie without even introducing himself, which threw her for a moment.

"Um...I'm six."

"Can you do a cartwheel?"

"Yup."

Jake nodded approvingly. "That's okay then." He turned and resumed his watch. Apparently, Natalie passed his test. She let her breath go in relief. Maddi grabbed Natalie's hand again and started pulling her towards the section of the jungle gym that doubled as the main deck primarily because there was a toy steering wheel screwed to a wall underneath a big window. The boy that had given Natalie the once over before ascending the rope ladder was there, sitting up against the wall, clearly in dereliction of duty. When he saw Captain Maddi, however, he jumped to his feet.

"Yeah, don't even try it, Sailor," Maddi said, rolling her eyes and cutting the kid off before he could speak. She turned back to Natalie. "This is Kenny. He's my cousin, so I have to play with him," Maddi said, a touch of disgust in her voice, as if playing with Kenny were the plague of her life.

Kenny jumped to his feet. "Who's she? What's she doing here?" he asked rudely, pointing at Natalie, who scowled back. Maddi stepped up right in his face.

"She's my new friend Natalie. And you just became the official maid on the USS Snow Surfer."

"No fair! I'm supposed to be steering! I don't wanna be the dumb maid!"

"And I told you to be nicer to my crew. You can't even do that, lazy. Now go swab the poop deck."

From the vicinity of the crow's nest came a small chuckle. "Heh heh. Poop."

"Shut up, Jake," Kenny growled, then stomped his way over towards the rear of the jungle gym.

Maddi watched him go, and rolled her eyes, exasperated by him. She turned to Natalie and said confidentially, "I would totally strand him on a desert island if my mom would let me." Natalie giggled, which made Maddi grin. She headed over towards the window above the plastic steering wheel. Natalie trailed behind her excitedly, not wanting to miss a moment of the adventure. Maddi stuck her head out and looked over at the twisting plastic tube slide coming out of the left side of the "deck". Natalie was even more excited- this jungle gym had TWO slides! She stood on her tiptoes, trying to see what Maddi was looking at. On top of the large blue tube, a girl around Maddi's age was straddling the slide, pretending to make adjustments to the bolts holding it together.

"How's it going, Megs?" Maddi called out. She turned back and looked at Natalie. She jerked her thumb in Megs' direction. "That's Megs. She's my best friend in the whole world."

"Almost got the main valve adjusted. We should be sailing in no time, Captain," Megs said, scrambling down the outside of the tube slide. Natalie watched as Megs hauled herself up the exterior of the tube slide and into the main cabin. She stuck out her hand towards Natalie, who took it. Megs shook her hand so hard it almost rattled her little teeth. "Welcome aboard, Rookie. Name's Megs. I'm the ship's mechanic."

Natalie's forehead wrinkled. "I didn't think pirate's ships needed a mechanic."

Megs just smiled indulgently. "THIS ship does." Without warning, Megs suddenly began making very loud alarm noises. It scared Natalie for a second until she realized that Megs was just playing.

"Captain! We've got a leaky exterior! If we can't hold the steam in the girders, then this whole place will BLOW!" Megs yelled dramatically. Natalie had no idea what any of Megs' words meant, but Maddi instantly sprang into action.

"Megs! Adjust the thermometer- that'll buy us some time. Kenny! Make yourself useful and plug the holes in the exterior."

"What do I use, Captain?"

"Anything you can find! Except the lost treasure of Rangoon! You touch that, and I'll keelhaul you!"

"Aye, Aye, Captain!"

"What's keelhaul mean?"

"Pirate term. You'll learn. Natalie- you go see if you can help Megs regulate the dials and the switches!" Maddi ran over to the plastic wheel on the wall and lashed herself to it, as if she was fighting the rudder against a gigantic tidal wave. Natalie hurriedly ran over to Megs, not sure what to do, and desperate not to mess it up when it seemed like the fate of the entire endeavor hung in the balance.

"Alright, Rookie, you do whatever it takes to keep these pipes from blowing, you understand?" Megs yelled, gesturing to the wall of imaginary pipes in front of her. Natalie's own imagination switched into high gear, and she suddenly felt like she was in the boiler room of the Titanic. In her mind, she could see the sweating, nearly bursting pipes covering every inch of the wall. She realized immediately how precarious their situation was.

"I'm on it!" she shrieked, and starting twisting imaginary valves and levers and dials right alongside Megs. Maddi occasionally looked out the window and yelled random pirate terms to Kenny and Jake, who were both scrambling to save their sinking ship. Megs and Natalie worked side by side, shouting about what was now going wrong with the system, which pipe was now on the verge of blowing, and how the ship just couldn't take much more of this. Suddenly, Megs pointed to a section of fake pipe right in front of Natalie's face.

"Look out! The steam from the pipe is going to blow up your face and kill us all!" she screamed.

"Not on my watch!" Natalie yelled back, and slammed her little forehead into the spot where Megs had been pointing, effectively "blocking" the bursting pipe. A horrified gasp came out of the mouths of both Maddi and Megs.

"What are you doing?! You'll be killed!" Maddi shrieked hopelessly, thinking that it had been a good while since one of them died, and excited that the new kid went there. She liked how this Natalie played. Natalie kept her forehead pressed to the wall, and turned her face towards the girls, playing like she was in horrible pain.

"Then it's a good day to die," she said in an agonized voice, just as Jake and Kenny tumbled into the small playroom. She didn't really know what that line meant- she had just heard one of the cowboys in those movies that Dean loved say it, and she thought it was a good line. Finally Megs declared that the ship had been saved due to Natalie's brave sacrifice. Natalie sprang up, pleased as punch with herself for saving the ship and the crew. Just as Maddi, Megs, and Jake started cheering, Kenny made a face at her.

"You just died. You can't just jump around like that didn't happen," he said with superior seven year old scorn. But what he didn't know what he was challenging a Winchester and her imagination.

"I have on a super invisible helmet that can absorb anything and bring me back to life, so there," she said without missing a beat, hands on her hips, and her head cocked to one side, daring him to come at her again.

All of the other kids' mouths dropped open. Natalie dropped her hands and stepped back, afraid that she had crossed some invisible line. Finally, Maddi stepped forward.

"That," she said breathlessly, "was the most AWESOME thing ever." Natalie grinned at her new Captain.

For the next twenty minutes, the little band of kids fiercely played pirates, encountering life sized star fish (regular star fish were deemed "not creepy enough") , several more system failures that were completely insurmountable (but they somehow made it through, often by the skin of their teeth) and even a trip to space (because what kind of pirate ship would it be if it didn't turn into a rocket?). They were having so much fun that Natalie forgot all about being nervous. She seemed to fit in just as well as any of the others. Finally, upon Captain's orders, she looked out the starboard window onto the raging sea. She took a gamble, not knowing which was starboard was, but it was okay- neither did the captain. However, when she looked out, she saw something that made the pretend world that she had been absorbed in disappear.

"Hey, Maddi? I mean, Captain Maddi?"

"What is it, First Mate Natalie?"

"What's that kid doing down there?" Maddi ran over to the window and looked at where Natalie was pointing. When she saw what was going on down in the far corner of the playground, her face turned hard.

"That," she said, disgusted, "is a big, mean jerk."

Natalie knew the term "jerk" all too well- she lived with Sam and Dean Winchester. However, she had never heard it used like this before. She looked back down at the older boy who was on the edge of the playground, his hand twisted in the shirt of a much younger and smaller boy. The big boy was in a dark blue, expensive looking winter coat. His jeans and boots appeared to be brand new. But despite the fact that the kid obviously came from a family that was financially well off, Natalie watched at the boy demanded money from the younger boy he had cornered up against the monkey bars, with a firm grip on his collar. Her mouth dropped open, and she whipped around to look at Maddi and Megs.

"That boy is being super mean and taking that kid's money!" she said, outraged. Maddi looked pissed, too.

"I know. He's from that snobby neighborhood around the corner. He doesn't talk to anyone at school because he's so mean. His mom brings him here to make friends, but all he does is make money."

"Why doesn't somebody stop him?" Natalie said, completely astounded that a kid could treat another kid like that.

Megs stepped forward. "Man, we've tried. He's way bigger and stronger than like, anybody. He could beat you to a pulp in a minute. And he never does it when the teachers are around, so no one notices."

"Doesn't his mom see him doing this? Since she brings him here and stuff?"

"Naw, she's got her fake nose buried in her phone. She doesn't ever look up from it."

Natalie looked at the boy again from her vantage point at the window. The Winchester sense of justice was sending up red flags in her six year old brain. And she wasn't going to just sit around and not do anything about it.

"I'm gonna stop him," she declared passionately, and made her way to the tube slide. Maddi and Megs once again gasped in tandem.

"You can't!"

"He'll kill you!"

"He's ten!"

"He'll KILL you!"

Natalie paid neither of them any attention. She jumped into the tube and slid to the bottom, ignoring the gasps and calls of the two other girls. She stomped her way across the snowy playground to the boy. As she got closer, she saw how big he really was. Much taller than her, much bulkier, and much scarier. But Natalie was determined to make him stop. She was going to be a hero, just like her dad.

"HEY!" she yelled, throwing all of her guts and bravado into that one word. The boy stopped, and turned around, curious as to what stupid kid could have possibly yelled at him like that. He looked the pint-sized Winchester up and down.

"What?" he asked gruffly, his hand still twisted in the collar of the younger boy he had been picking on.

"That's not nice. Leave him alone," Natalie said declaratively. She could hear Maddi and Megs running up behind her, and was secretly glad they were there. Because no matter what her exterior looked like, she was scared to death confronting this kid who was just so much bigger than her. The boy sneered at her.

"What? A little baby girl is going to stop me? Go run and play with your dolls, you diaper baby before I beat you up." The bully turned his attention back to the boy, but Natalie wasn't done yet.

"No! You let that kid go...or else!" she said, stomping her foot. She wished that she could have come up with something more threatening than "or else", but her brain seemed to be failing her. Fortunately for the boy being picked on, the bully opened his fist, letting him go. He scrambled away as quick as he could. Unfortunately for Natalie, the bully slowly turned towards her instead. Natalie's pulse raced as the boy focused his glare solely on her.

"Or. Else. What," he said, advancing on her.

"Or else- I'll tell my dad," she said, convinced that this would make the bully stop. It didn't.

"You tell anyone about this, and I'll knock you in the head," he growled at the tiny six year old. Who had a temper. Which was suddenly flaring. Natalie's brain suddenly kicked back into high gear, Dean's DNA winning out over her sense of self preservation.

"You stop being mean to kids and taking their money, or I'll kick you so hard you won't know your ass from your elbow."

"Oooooo, Rookie's got SKILLS..." Natalie heard Jake hiss behind her. Apparently, he had joined the girls to watch Natalie confront the boy. That got the bully's attention. He didn't like that this little brat had linguistically gotten the better of him. He leaned down, and picked up a rock that was on the ground. Without any warning, he turned and hurled it at Megs. Luckily she saw it coming, and dodged it with a shriek. Natalie whipped back around to look the bully in the face. He was snarling a grin at her.

"There's more where that came from, you little bitch," the bully spat at Natalie. A red veil of fury slipped over her eyes. As the bully picked up another rock to throw at the other girls, Natalie quickly scooped up a handful of snow, packed it into a hard snowball, and let it fly, right at the bully's face. It exploded upon contact, sending shards of ice and snow flying around him like a firework. The bully froze, remnants of the snowball dripping off of his face and shoulders. No one had ever stood up to him before. Nor had he ever been hit by a snowball, and especially right in the face. All of his bravado and swagger a few moments earlier disappeared. He opened his mouth and began to wail.

Natalie suddenly came out of her rage induced state, not believing what had just happened, and certainly not believing she was the one who did it. She had to look down at her gloved hand and see the remains of the crystals from the snow ball to believe she had just done that. Just as the girls and Jake ran up to her, the boy took a breath and screamed, "MOMMY!"

 _Uh-oh_.

In a matter of moments, a short blonde woman with a weird, spiky haircut came racing over to the boy. "Sweetpea? Sweetpea! What happened? Oh, what happened to my precious baby?" she screamed in a loud, super annoying voice. All three girls exchanged incredulous looks. Not only was the bully calling for him mommy, but this was her? This nipped and tucked, over-tanned woman? Before the girls could retreat to safety however, the bully pointed in Natalie's direction. In between his loud, pathetic sobbing, he managed to stammer out.

"Sh-she hit me with a snow ball!" The mother immediately turned her evil glare on Natalie. She stormed right up to the little girl, shaking a finger at her.

"You naughty little brat! Look what you've done to my sweet boy!"

"But, ma'am, I..." Natalie tried to explain, but she was rudely interrupted by the socialite.

"You are a horrible little girl, do you know that?"

"Excuse me," came a voice from behind them. Natalie had never been so relieved and terrified to hear Dean's voice in her life. "Is there a problem here?" he asked the mother calmly. She looked at Dean- at his worn out jacket, his road-tested boots, and she sneered at him with the same look her son had given his daughter.

"None that concerns the likes of you," she sniped at him. Dean's eyebrows shot into his hairline, his own temper instantly ignited. This bitch wanted to tangle? Fine by him.

"Well, seeing as that's my kid you're yelling at, yeah, I'd say that it does concern the likes of me," Dean said, keeping his voice even, but watching her every move with his hunter's eyes. There was clearly a tone of authority in his voice. The woman straightened up.

"That little brat is yours?" she asked condescendingly.

"I strongly advise you to watch your mouth, lady," Dean growled, stepping right up next to Natalie. The woman paled a bit, reacting to the power behind Dean's statement, but quickly recovered herself in a frantic, nervous way.

"She threw a snowball, and hit my son in the face!" she said, a snarky attitude in her voice. Dean turned his attention down to Natalie, who suddenly squirmed under his gaze.

"Did you do that?" he asked quietly, not having seen the whole exchange.

"Yes, sir," she responded honestly, twisting one foot into the ground. Just then, Maddi and Megs ran over to them, determined to get the truth out. Jake was right behind them.

"She was saving us, mister!" Maddi insisted.

"Yeah! That...guy..." Megs said, pointing at the still-sobbing bully, "was taking kids' money. He does it all the time!"

"Really?" Dean said, turning his attention back to the mother, who suddenly flushed and became very absorbed in wiping her son's snotty face, ignoring the accusation. He rolled his eyes, and then looked back at the other little girls. "Tell me what else happened," he said calmly to the two of them.

"Natalie asked him to stop..."

"And then he threatened to beat her up..."

"He threatened to beat Natalie up?" Dean said, his tone a little louder, his hackles raising. A tug on his hand made him look down. Jake was standing there, a deathly serious look on his little face.

"Bro. He totally threatened to beat Natalie up," Jake said, making sure that Dean heard him. Dean nodded that he understood.

"Then HE threw a rock at ME!" Megs declared loudly. At hearing that, Dean turned back towards the bully, who was now cowering in his mother's coat.

"Did you throw rocks at these girls?" Dean growled at the boy, who whimpered and hid behind his mother. That wasn't going to fly with Dean. "I asked you a question, kid." The bully wouldn't answer- he just kept cowering behind his mommy. Dean looked down at Natalie, who looked up at him and nodded that he was right- the boy threw rocks at them first.

"Yes, he did," Maddi said, answering out loud, wanting the words to be said. She directed it right at the boy's mother.

"Rock thrower," Jake muttered under his breath at the bully.

"Well, that doesn't matter," the mother said dismissively.

"Doesn't MATTER?" Dean roared, losing his temper at the horrible woman who was clearly in denial about what a little twat her son was. Both the other little girls jumped at the sound of his voice, and Dean suddenly remembered that he was on a playground full of kids, so his demon exorcising voice probably wasn't the best choice here. He took a deep breath before going on. "It seems to matter a lot. Sounds like your kid was bullying the other kids, and mine was just defending her friends. And I can tell you from personal experience, snowballs don't hurt nearly as bad as rocks do."

The mother gasped, and opened and closed her mouth several times, looking for a retort that would stick, but there was absolutely no defense she could make. Finally, she stammered out, "Well, you should teach your daughter not to throw."

Before Dean could even take a breath, Natalie piped up. "Maybe you should teach your son the same thing," she said evenly. The mother's mouth dropped open again, her eyes swinging to Dean. He merely grinned and shrugged as if to say _Well, the kid's got a point._ She snapped her stupid mouth shut, wrapped her arm around the still wailing boy, and haughtily stormed away.

"Come, Malachi," Natalie and Dean heard her say as she departed in high dudgeon, her plastic nose in the air. Both Natalie and Dean's faces contorted in identical masks of disgust.

"Malachi? That's a stupid name," they both growled under their breaths at the same time. They then looked in surprise at each other, just like every other time they spoke in tandem. Dean's face morphed into a grin, and he knelt down again in front of Natalie.

"Alright squirt- time to go," he said to her.

"Am I in trouble?" she asked nervously, her foot still twisting a bit. Dean thought for a moment, then smiled at her again.

"Naw, you're not in trouble. We just need to have a little talk."

"That sounds like I'm in trouble."

Dean chuckled. "Go say good bye to your friends. You can come back and play with them tomorrow." At that, Natalie's heart lifted a bit. If she was going to get to come back tomorrow, that meant she wasn't in a lot of trouble. She skipped over to her new friends, who were falling over themselves, congratulating her on taking down the bully that had been plaguing the playground for so long, thanking her for standing up for them, and talking about how awesome she was. Natalie just blushed. Megs leaned in.

"Are you gonna get in trouble with your dad?" she asked anxiously. Natalie shrugged, trying to play casual.

"Probably not. He said I could come back and play tomorrow."

Jake nodded approvingly. "Yeah. He's cool like that. I can tell."

"Can I...can I still play pirates with you guys tomorrow?" Natalie asked, suddenly nervous again.

"You can TOTALLY play pirates with us, any time," Maddi said enthusiastically. Natalie jumped up and down with excitement. "But just a heads up," Maddi said, causing Natalie to stop bouncing immediately and look at Maddi anxiously. "We may be astronauts tomorrow. Or cowboys."

"Cool!" Natalie squealed. She hugged her new friends good bye, and ran over to Dean, who reached down and took her hand, leading her back towards the motel.

*SPN SPN SPN*

About half an hour later, father and daughter were sitting in a diner in town, pieces of warm blueberry pie in front of them. Natalie was happily digging away into her slice, smacking her lips at its deliciousness. Clearly, she wasn't in all that much trouble. Dean shoved in another forkful of his own pie before setting his utensil down, folding his arms, and leaning forward on the table, resting his elbows on the top.

"So...about that talk we need to have," he started, jumping right in. Natalie's eyes went wide, and her heart dropped through her feet. Before any more of her vital organs could fall out of her shoes, Dean continued. "I want you to know- I'm really, really proud of you for standing up for your friends and those other kids today." Natalie's heart immediately found its home back in her chest, and began to glow.

"Really?" she said in a whisper, still not entirely convinced that she wasn't going to be spending the rest of her day in Time Out.

"Hell yeah. It takes a lot of guts to do what you did. Nobody else did it, did they?" Natalie thought for a moment, then shook her head. "There you go," Dean said, a delighted grin spreading across his face. "I doubt that Malachi kid will be coming back anytime soon," he said with a chuckle.

"You really thought I did good?" Natalie said again, wanting to hear Dean say it.

"Yup. You're one tough cookie, kiddo."

Upon hearing Dean's praise, she squealed excitedly. "I can't wait for my next fight!"

Dean held up one hand. "Hang on a second there, Al Capone." Natalie stopped, and looked Dean right in the eye, giving him her full attention. "I wanna make sure we're clear on this. Being brave and being a hero doesn't mean you go LOOKING for a fight. You with me?" Natalie nodded vigorously, wanting to agree with whatever he said. "Good girl."

"But you and Uncle Sam go looking for cases and stuff," Natalie asked quietly and tentatively, not understanding the difference. "And then you go and fight the monsters."

"We go looking for the monsters that are hurting people, and we hunt them down. But we don't start fights with random people, just to prove that we're bigger or stronger. You know what that would make us?"

"What?"

"A bully. Just like that jerk ass kid."

"Oh."

"Yeah. And we're better than that. We're heroes. And now, you are too."

At hearing that, Natalie's face became like the sun. "I'm a hero, too?"

"Hell yeah. You saved that kid from getting beaten up, and you saved your friends when that little jerk was throwing rocks at them."

"Does that mean I can go on cases with you?!" she said, bouncing excitedly in her seat.

Dean chuckled at her enthusiasm. "You're working up to it. When you can see over the steering wheel, we'll talk."

"Deal!" she said, shoveling her pie into her mouth. Dean laughed outright at her.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Much later that night, when Natalie was tucked into bed, she was in that magical place between sleep and awake when she overheard bits of a conversation her father was having with her uncle. He sounded more excited than she had ever heard him sound before, which was probably what was waking her up. Dean's voice broke through the fog she was half asleep in, but it couldn't keep her awake. She was too sleepy to make out the full story, but she overheard a few words. She didn't fully understand what they were or what they meant. But from his tone, Dean was clearly happy, so she snuggled back under her blankets, falling asleep, catching snatches of the story as she drifted off to dream land.

"...jumped right in with the other kids..."

"...nailed that little asshat right in the kisser..."

"...never been more proud in my entire damn life."


	26. Winchester Vs Winchester

**Hello fabulous beautiful SPN Family! Hope you're all doing well. Not gonna talk much here (I know, thank Chuck). This is a requested story from sjwmaw- She asked to see what would happen if Natalie was misbehaving, and how Dean would react in that parental role. So here you go! I hope you like it, sjwmaw! Thanks for being such a great support system! To the others who have requested stories, they're all in my queue- I'll get to them, I promise! Thanks for being patient.**

 **Speaking of support systems, you all know that I can't do this without Jenmm31- Sammy to my Dean-o. Thanks girl, for everything.**

 **You know the drill! Read, Review, and Enjoy! Hugs, Pie, and a Chevy Impala to all of you!**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is 4 years old. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

Dean's fingers were flying over the screen of his cell phone. His mind was a steel trap as he wound through page after page of pointless jibber and jabber, searching for that one sentence- maybe even the one word- that could lead to cracking this case wide open. Every fiber of his being was tuned into the words on the screen as he scrolled through them, searching. Well- almost every fiber. One fiber of his being was very, very much aware of something else. The four year old staring at him incessantly with wide, focused, bright green eyes.

Out of his periphery, he saw Natalie tilt her head, studying him. No- to be more precise, studying his phone. Ever since she was a baby, the sound of clicking keyboards drew her like a moth to a flame. She was going through a phase right now where all she wanted to do was play with his and Sam's phones. She was fascinated by the pictures, the apps, the games, and the sheer joy of lifting the contraband item off her father or uncle. If Dean would have let her, she could have been absorbed for hours when she had a phone in her little paws, but it never got that far. She knew she wasn't supposed to take their phones; she was only allowed to play with them when Dean or Sam gave her permission. But that didn't stop her from wanting and trying to get them every second of the day.

Dean turned slightly away from her, trying to hide his phone from her view, as if that would hold her off. She simply walked around so she was facing him again. He turned completely away from her, which prompted her to climb up on the bed to stay in his line of sight. Dean sighed, and lowered the phone down. As he expected, her greedy eyes followed it. He snapped his fingers twice, prompting her to look up, startled, as if she had just noticed he was there.

"Can I help you?" Dean said with the patience of a saint.

"Can I please play on the phone?" Natalie said, using her sweetest voice. Dean briefly closed his eyes. Just long enough to reset his patience level, then he opened them again.

"No, Natalie. I'm using it right now."

"But you've been using it all day."

"Because my laptop isn't working. I told you this. You need to listen to me, kiddo."

"Yes, sir. Can I play with it now?"

Dean set the phone face down on the bed, reached out, and picked her straight up. He walked towards the other side of the room, then deposited her on the worn out sofa that was smashed up against the dull dark green wall of their motel room. He bent over so he was looking her right in the face.

"No, you cannot play with my phone while I am working. You stay here and color. Or play with your toy soldiers. Hell, watch cartoons, I don't care. But," he made sure the four year old was paying attention. "No phone. Understood?"

Natalie gulped once, and whispered, "Yes, sir."

Dean nodded approvingly, and stood up. "Good girl," he said. "So. You want crayons or cartoons?" She shrugged half heartedly, indicating that neither option was what she really wanted. Hoping to distract her, Dean picked up the remote, and handed it to her. "Here. Go nuts. No skin flicks."

"Dean!" Sam scolded, looking up from his laptop. He had taken up residence at the small table right by the front door. The motel was very small as motels go- only one hallway of rooms, and their room had the added feature of a sliding glass door at the other end, showing off the weed infested back parking lot. Sam was far enough away from the glare of the door, and had his lore books spread out all over the table. To Dean, he looked like he was creating a big, dorky nest.

"What? She doesn't know what that is," Dean threw at him. Sam just shook his head, and went back to his laptop. Dean looked back at his daughter; sure enough, the TV had captured her attention. "Hey!" he exclaimed excitedly when he saw what she had flipped to. "Batman!" He grinned proudly at her. "That's my girl." Natalie looked up and giggled at him, causing his heart to expand just a little bit. Confident that he had put that little fire out, he walked back to his bed, picked up his phone, and resumed searching. The creature that he and Sam were hunting was proving very difficult to pin down, and his laptop being on the fritz wasn't helping matters at all. He continued scrolling, searching for that one piece of information that would unlock the mystery. Dean tuned out the sounds of the TV and focused.

After about half an hour, Sam finally cleared his throat. "Dude," he said. "Check it out. I found something." Dean instantly dropped his phone, sprang off his bed, and walked over towards his brother. Sam looked up at Dean with a heavy sigh. "I think it's a Zin."

"Isn't that when you're all peaceful and meditating and crap?"

"Not Zen, Dean. Zin."

"Okay, so what's Zin then?"

"Well, according to this website, it's an African spirit that's reminiscent of a Djinn."

"That can't be good."

"Exactly. This one, however, dwells in the water. Same kind of mind manipulation and destruction, though. It travels through the water to get where it wants to go."

"That explains the puddles we found around the body-"

"-and also why all the pipes in town keep bursting."

"Nice job, Sammy," Dean complimented, slapping Sam on the back. "So how do we gank the bastard?"

Sam's eyes shifted back to the laptop. "Haven't found anything on that yet."

Dean nodded, expecting as much. Of course, it could never be that easy. "I'll see if I can find anything. Hopefully, we just sneak up behind its ass and stab it." Dean spread his arms wide. "Just how I like 'em." Sam chuckled and shook his head as Dean trotted back towards the bed. He looked down on the bed to grab his phone and continue the research, but it wasn't there. He swore he had just tossed it down before going over to look at the laptop. He searched his pockets quickly- nothing. He pushed the bedclothes around- nothing. He shook out the pillows- nothing. Then he realized that from the couch he was hearing- nothing. He turned around to see the TV still on, but the four year old nowhere in sight. He gritted his teeth. Damn, she could move like a freaking ninja when she wanted to.

His eyes started scanning the room slowly. Bathroom door was still open, so she wasn't hiding in the bathtub. None of the cabinet doors in the kitchenette were ajar, so she hadn't hidden in one of them. Suddenly, a tiny movement caught his eye. Behind the curtain, right next to the screen door. A very small, blue princess sock-clad toe was peeping out from underneath the faded drapery. Dean let out something akin to a growling sigh, and made his way over towards the curtain. Without any preamble, he yanked it back. Sure enough, there she was, crouching as small as she could go, her back against the wall, the phone in her hand, and an incredibly guilty look on her face. Dean felt his own face harden into a stern mask.

"Natalie," he said in his full on _you're dead meat_ voice. "Get out here. Now." Without hesitation, the four year old scrambled up from the floor and took a hesitant step forward out of the curtain. Dean just crossed his arms over his chest and gave his daughter The Eye. After four years, he was getting pretty good at it too. Natalie immediately started twisting her foot into the carpet, like she was trying to squash a bug- her usual response when she knew she was in trouble.

"Natalie, are you allowed to play with my phone without my permission?" Dean asked her sternly.

"No," she muttered towards the ground. That wasn't going to fly with Dean.

"Eyes up," he commanded. He always insisted that she look him right in the eye when she was in trouble. It was something John had always made the boys do, and Dean had found himself grateful for that training more than once. It gave him the confidence he needed to fake his way through a difficult situation, or know how to keep eye contact with someone who was proving to be a difficult witness. He watched his daughter squirm again for a moment, then raise her eyes to look at him. Once her green eyes connected with his and saw the anger in them, she let out a tiny whimper and squirmed again, but she didn't drop her gaze. "Now, we're gonna try this again. Are you allowed to play with my phone without my permission?"

"No, sir," she squeaked out, violently twisting her foot into the carpet.

"That's better. And what happens when you disobey me, like you just did?" Her face twisted when he said those words, into a pleading glance. But Dean wasn't letting her off the hook- they had been through this too many times. She knew better, and he was determined to stomp out this misbehavior of hers.

"Time Out," she said miserably, knowing that she couldn't get out of it- not when Daddy gave his infamous lead in. Dean nodded.

"Damn straight. Come on." He could hear Natalie dragging her feet, but walking behind him. He walked over towards the table where Sam was sitting. Without his eyes ever leaving the screen of his laptop, Sam pushed one of the chairs away from the table towards his brother, knowing that that was what Dean was going for. They were so used to the Time Out routine by now that they had it down pat. Dean swung the chair into the corner, and then turned around to face the four year old with the frowning scowl on her face. "Hey," he barked at her, not appreciating the attitude she was exuding. She twisted her foot into the carpet again, looking down, but not saying a word. "You don't wanna do the time, then don't do the crime. Simple as that. Give me the phone." Natalie handed it up to him abashedly. He reached down and plucked it out of her hand. "Now get in the chair."

"Yes, sir," she muttered, hauling herself up into the seat and facing the corner of the room.

"That's better," Dean said regarding her compliance. He turned on the timer on his phone- it was always set at five minutes now, anyways. He sighed, frustrated, to himself, looking at the back of her little head pouting in the corner. She was a good kid- hell she was a great kid- the vast majority of the time. She never protested when it came to Sam making her eat her vegetables, or taking a bath, or even being quiet in public situations when they needed her to be. She was a little angel. But when it came to the phone, or going to sleep, it was like she was a different person. She was obsessed with electronic gadgets, and neither Sam nor Dean could figure out why. She could figure out the lock screen codes just by watching their fingers move once over the screen. One time, she managed to turn the language on Sam's phone from English to Russian. Dean had found that absolutely hilarious at the time, but not so much when he discovered that his own phone had been changed to Portuguese. They had a couple games on their phones that they did keep on there for her, just as a Hail Mary in case there was no other entertainment to be had, and only to be played with permission. They had been very clear from Day One that she wasn't allowed to play with them without their permission. When she had been told that about practically anything else, she obeyed without question. But the devil came out when it came to their phones. Dean shook his head, wondering if he would ever understand why. As he crossed back to his bed, Sam spoke up again, his eyes never leaving his laptop.

"You're not gonna do the whole "five minutes, no talking" speech?" he asked his brother. Dean shrugged.

"She can recite it to herself by now. She knows what she did was wrong." He walked back over and sat down on the bed, looking up Zins and ways to kill them. Five minutes later, when his alarm went off, he slipped his phone into his pocket. He didn't want to put any more temptation in the kid's way. "Natalie," he commanded from his bed. "Come here." He saw her reluctantly slip sideways out of her chair. He searched her face as she slunk over to him. All the defiance that was there a few minutes ago was now gone. Dean internally heaved a sigh of relief, eternally grateful to whoever came up with Time Out and the fact that it actually worked on his kid. Natalie walked right up in front of him, knowing the drill by this point. He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, getting right at eye level with her. He reached out and touched her chin, which she knew was the signal for "eyes up". He was strict with her when it came to understanding and owning up to what she did. After a Time Out, he always made her standing facing him, looking him right in the eye, while they talked about what she did. Dean remembered John doing the exact same thing to him whenever he had gotten in trouble, but he also remembered John never giving him a chance to explain himself. He still remembered a couple times when he wished that John would have let him tell his side of the story. He was determined to hear what Natalie had to say for herself.

"Alright, squirt. What did you do wrong."

"I took your phone while you were still using it."

"Right. Are you allowed to do that?"

"No, sir."

"Anything else to say for yourself?"

"No, sir."

He leaned forward further, making sure he had her full attention. "Listen up. We've been through this a hundred times. I don't know what it is that's causing it to not sink it, but you will stop taking my phone from me, especially when I'm using it. Do I make myself clear?"

She swallowed hard, but her gaze didn't waver. "Yes, sir," she said quietly.

Dean nodded approvingly, sending up a quick prayer that this was the time that it would stick. Even though it wasn't all that difficult to discipline her, he still hated having to do it. He hated that sad look in her eyes, how uncomfortable she was when he was scolding her, and he HATED making her sit in Time Out, because he knew she despised it. But she was his kid, and he was going to be damned if he let her grow up into a disrespectful little brat that seemed to be the norm these days. Not to mention, he saw this as investing in her hunter's training. She had to learn to obey him and do what he said at all times if she ever wanted to go out onto the field with him. There was no way he'd ever let her out into the supernatural world unless he was one hundred percent sure she'd follow his every command. His eyes softened at the petulant child in front of him. He reached out and ruffled her hair.

"Good girl. Now go play," he said, turning her around and giving her a gentle swat on the bottom to get her moving. She flattened her hair down with her hands as she trotted back towards the TV. Batman was over by now, and she wasn't crazy about the next line up of cartoons, so she started flipping through the channels. He made his way back to the table that Sam was still diligently working at, and sat down in the chair opposite of his brother. Sam finally looked away from his laptop towards his niece, still dispassionately flipping through the channels. He just shook his head at her, smiling.

"What?" Dean asked. Sam focused back on him.

"Nothing. It's just...you'd think she'd have learned by now."

Dean snorted. "Tell me about it. I've lost track of the number of times she's stolen my phone."

"Should we...you know... get her a phone that she can play with or something?" Dean just stared at Sam like he had suddenly expressed a desire to become a prima ballerina.

"You been drinking the Kool-Aid? What the hell, Sam? You want me to get the four year old a cell phone?"

"Of course not a real phone, Dean. Like a toy one. Maybe that'll keep her away from our phones."

"Nothin' doing. The second she realizes that you can't program apps into anything from Playskool, that thing will go flying across the room."

Sam sighed and shrugged, but he knew Dean was right. Having no answer to the cell phone thief problem, Sam handed Dean a thick leather bound novel. Dean took it with a grimace, dropping it heavily on to the table in front of him. He fished his phone out of his pocket and set it in the center of the table so he could keep an eye on the time. Before he was even willing to crack the book open though, he got up from the table and made his way over towards the refrigerator. He pulled out two cold cans of beer, tucked them under his arm, and then looked behind him at his kid.

"Hey squirt, you thirsty?" he asked Natalie.

"Beer me!" she said, popping up and giggling. Dean grinned at her words. Damn straight he'd taught her that. He grabbed a juice box before closing the door. Sam huffed in indignation.

"Dean, you gotta stop letting her say that," he scolded. Dean sauntered over to the couch, the shit-eating grin never leaving his face.

"Aw, come on Sammy, it's hilarious," he said, chuckling and poking the straw into the juice box before handing it over to the kid.

"Thank you!" she said, before picking up the remote and beginning the channel surfing again. Dean ruffled her hair proudly before walking back towards the table.

"Yeah. And what do you think is going to happen when she says that on her first day of kindergarten?" Sam continued, pressing Dean to get the answer he wanted. However, Dean just pointed a finger in his brother's face in warning.

"Hey- no talking about that. Not dealing with that now. We got bigger fish to fry."

"Dean..."

Cutting Sam off, Dean held up one can of beer threateningly. "So help me, I will take this beer right back to the fridge," he said in a mock "dad" voice. Sam just rolled his eyes, making Dean's grin reappear. He put the can on the table beside his brother. "Good boy."

"Shut up."

The two of them got back down to work, flipping through old weather beaten books and scrolling through multiple search engines, slowly crushing the six pack between them. After a considerable length of time in which Sam searched through nine websites, Dean pawed through five books, Natalie went down for her nap and got back up, and the empty beer cans had grown warm, Sam finally struck gold. And he didn't like what he read.

"Dean," he hissed, trying to get his brother's attention without getting his niece's. Dean looked up with tired eyes from the dusty novel. Sam jerked his head towards the door, indicating that they should talk outside. Dean rolled his eyes, but got up. Sam had this annoying habit of not talking about anything he deemed "too graphic" for a kid when he was in a fifty yard radius of Natalie. Dean had argued repeatedly that the sooner she learned it all, the better. Sam didn't agree. He tried to shelter his niece from as much as he possibly could. Which was difficult, given that she was constantly trying to jump into the world of the supernatural with both feet. Dean knew that Sam would just clam up and they would get nowhere, so oftentimes, he would give in to Sam's wanting to go elsewhere to discuss anything that might be too "unpleasant". He followed his brother towards the door to the motel room.

As he was about to walk through the door, he turned to his daughter, sprawled out on the couch in a cartoon coma. She hadn't moved off of it since her nap, knowing that Sam and Dean needed quiet to do their research.

"We're gonna chat outside for a minute, okay squirt? Sit tight."

"Okay!"

Dean stepped out the door, and made sure it was shut. "Alright, Sammy. How nasty is it gonna get?" he asked. Sam just shook his head.

"You have to kill Zins with their own element."

"So...water then. We gotta drown the son of a bitch."

"And if you remember correctly, these things have a hell of a lot of strength-"

"-which means it's gonna put up a hell of a fight."

"Exactly."

Dean shrugged. "Since when is that a problem?"

"Since we can't breathe underwater."

"You saying we gotta find Aquaman or something?"

"We're going to have to hold it under long enough to drown it, while it's going to be fighting for its life, using all of its supernatural strength." Sam paused for a moment. "You starting to see the problem here?"

"Crap."

"Exactly. How the hell are we gonna drown this thing? Even with two of us?"

"We have to bind it. Tie it up, use a spell, something."

"How? What do we have that's strong enough?"

Dean gritted his teeth. "Looks like it's back to the books for us." Sam sighed, knowing Dean was right. He opened the door to the room, and Dean walked through first. What he saw, however, made the thought of how to kill the Zin fly right out of his mind.

Natalie was sitting up on the couch- playing with his phone.

Dean's mouth dropped open in shock. She had _just_ been punished for this very same thing earlier today- usually that stuck for the rest of the day, sometimes even two or three. But she had never blatantly disobeyed him like this- within a few hours of misbehaving before. Instantly, he was furious. She knew better, and she was putting him into the same position that he hated to be in- the bad guy. She wasn't listening when he had repeatedly told her not to do this. She was just so determined to get her own way that she was disregarding whatever he said. He was determined to stomp this thing out, once and for all.

"Natalie Grace!" he roared. She jumped a mile, her eyes wide with shock. He stormed over to her and unceremoniously ripped the phone out of her hands.

"Hey!" she squeaked, now indignant herself. "I was playing on that!"

"Yeah, I got that. Didn't we just have this conversation this morning, little girl?" Dean scolded loudly. He watched as she shrank down upon hearing the words "little girl". That was Dean Code for "You're toast". Dean stood there, giving her his best withering Eye. But to his amazement, she shook her head.

"No? What do you mean, No?" he said, wondering what on earth she could be playing at.

"This morning, I took the phone when you was using it. You wasn't using it this time," Natalie explained matter of factly. She held out her hand, as if she expected Dean to drop the phone right back into her little paws. Dean closed his eyes, and let out a frustrated breath before answering.

"Natalie- I have told you a hundred times. You are not to play with my phone."

"But you wasn't using it!"

"That doesn't matter."

"Does too."

"Excuse me?!" Dean took a threatening step closer to her, but she stood her ground.

"You wasn't using it, and I needed it."

"Really. You NEEDED it."

"Yes, Daddy. I NEEDED it."

Dean shook his head and decided to cut to the chase. "Natalie, are you allowed to play with my phone without permission?" he said through gritted teeth, pissed that he was having to do this all over again in the same day. Natalie's eyes went even wider at the usual lead in to Time Out.

"But...but you wasn't using it," she stammered, not understanding what the issue was, or why Dean was suddenly so angry.

"Little girl, I asked you a question."

She slunk even farther down on the couch, but the confusion didn't leave her eyes. "No, but..."

"And what happens when you disobey me?"

"But you wasn't USING it!"

That did it for Dean. "Wrong answer," he growled. He reached down and pulled her up from the sofa by one arm, and started dragging her towards the chair which was still facing the corner. When she saw where they were heading, Natalie dug her heels into the fading shag carpeting.

"NO! I don't need a Time Out, I don't need a Time Out!" she protested loudly, using all her strength to try to stop Dean. It was of no use- she was four. He was a 36 year old hunter who was much, much taller and stronger than her. Dean simply turned and hauled her up in his arms, balancing her on his hip as he stormed towards the corner. He plunked her down in the chair. She gave a little squeak of indignation as he sat her down, hard. He took a step back, just in time to see her do the unthinkable. She slid right out of the chair and stood next to it, her mouth opening to protest. Dean thought his head was about to explode.

"Daddy, I don't need a-"

"Get. Back. In. That. Chair," Dean roared at her, cutting her off. She jumped another mile, and scrambled back into the chair immediately. But she turned over her shoulder to try to continue her argument, which just sent Dean even farther off the deep end.

"I was already in Time Out today already!" she said, thinking that Dean may have forgotten that she had done this previously.

"And clearly, you didn't learn a damn thing," he scolded her, causing her to shrink back a bit. "You took my phone after being told repeatedly not to, so yeah. You're in Time Out again. Ten minutes this time."

Natalie's jaw hit the floor. She had _never_ been in Time Out for that long before, and she, like her father, was instantly furious. Not to mention confused, seeing as she really didn't understand what the issue was. Dean wasn't using his phone. She wanted it. What was the problem? Before she could do anything, however, Dean's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Turn around and face the corner," he commanded. Natalie wanted to speak again, but she knew both Sam and Dean had their rule about "no talking in Time Out". She whipped her head around, but just to show that she was still very displeased with the outcome here, she leaned back and began hammering the wall with her feet. That last about five seconds before she felt the entire chair scoot harshly back, and found Dean leaning down in her face.

"Stop it right now, or so help me, you will spend the rest of the day in this chair. You hear me, little girl?" Natalie didn't say anything; she just crossed her arms and dropped her feet. Dean scooted the chair back into the corner, and she couldn't help but give a slight whimper of protest. "I don't wanna hear it, Natalie," Dean warned. She fell silent again. Dean looked at his phone, closed out all the apps she had opened, and set the timer for ten minutes.

Sam had silently watched the entire exchange, and was still standing in the doorway, frozen. His eyes darted back and forth between father and daughter, watching the drama play out. Now when Dean turned away from the furious child and saw Sam standing there, gaping at him like a fish, his already short fuse got even shorter. "What?!" he barked.

Sam quickly shook his head. "Nothing. Uh...nothing." He made his way back to the table, and sat down at the laptop. Dean found himself breathing hard through his nose, and realized just how close he was to blowing his stack. He ground his back teeth together again, and forced himself to take a deep breath. He stalked over towards the books, sat down hard in his own seat, and tried to ignore the waves of fury he could practically seeing rolling off his child. _This is for her own good,_ he told himself, trying to focus again on the book in front of him.

At the seven minute mark, Natalie, still seething, kicked the wall once more. Dean's temper instantly ignited again. "NATALIE!" he roared, slamming the book closed. She didn't turn around, but she froze, so he knew he was getting through to her. "You wanna add another five minutes on to your time, kick that wall again. See what happens." When she didn't move, he turned his attention back to the book, pissed off that he had slammed the book shut and lost his place in his anger. He felt more than saw Sam looking at him, and he refused to acknowledge it.

"Dean..."Sam began softly.

"Don't."

Sam closed his mouth, not wishing to provoke his brother's wrath any further. He was worried that Dean's temper was making him forget that this was a four year old he was dealing with; not some demon or vampire. He started to say something again, but Dean's furious eyes locked on his, and once again, he shut his mouth.

When the timer went off on his phone, Dean put a marker in the book, just in case he lost his temper again. "Natalie Grace, come here," he commanded, a bit louder than he normally would. Like usual, she slid off her chair and made her way over to him. Unlike usual however, her arms were crossed, and she still had a completely defiant look on her face. Dean sat up straight, put his hands on his knees and locked his elbows. He felt like he was prepping to go into a particularly nasty battle with an unknown creature. And to an extent, he was right. A misbehaving Natalie was certainly an anomaly. And she was clearly up for a fight, herself.

"Alright, little girl. What did you do wrong?"

She shrugged. Dean bit the inside of his cheek and pinched his eyes closed. When he felt his control coming back to him, he opened his eyes and spoke.

"You know better than to give me a shrug like that. Speak."

"I don't know what I did wrong. Sir."

"Really. You don't know."

"No."

"No, _sir."_

"No...sir."

The pause between words almost sent him over the edge again. "You mean to tell me that in the ten minutes you sat there, you couldn't come up with one reason why you were in trouble? Even though I told you right before I put you in that corner?"

"No, sir."

Dean's eyebrows drew together, and once again his face hardened. "Then I guess you're going back in Time Out until you can figure it out." He reached out and grabbed her arm again. The defiance immediately fell off her face, only to be replaced with outrage.

"NO! THAT'S NOT FAIR!" she yelled. Dean didn't even respond. He just yanked her so hard she nearly tripped. Tuning out her cries, he set her down in the chair for the third time that day. He knelt right next to it, getting as close to her as he could.

"Listen up, 'cause I'm not gonna tell you again. You took my phone. You're not supposed to take my phone-" At this, she gave every indication that she was going to interrupt him with her "you weren't using it" argument, but he held up his hand and raised his voice instead of letting her speak. "- EVER without my permission. So you think about that for the next ten minutes, and see if you can't come up with the right answer the next time I ask you. Got it?" Without waiting for an indication that she understood, Dean stood up and stormed over to the table and grabbed his phone. Just as he was about to reset the timer, he heard the telltale thump of a small shoe being kicked at a wall.

"Natalie Grace Winchester, you kick that wall again, and it's gonna very uncomfortable for you to sit for the next ten minutes. Understood?"

Silence. Dean turned away from her, still seething, and reset the timer. This time, Sam couldn't help himself.

"Dean," he began again softly.

"What, Sam?" Dean barked, knowing exactly what it was that Sam was going to say.

"You need to calm down, dude."

"No, what I need is a kid who listens to me."

"You need to remember that she IS a kid, Dean," Sam said, dropping his voice lower to try to soothe his brother.

"That doesn't excuse her from doing whatever she damn well pleases when she knows she shouldn't."

"I'm not saying it does. I'm saying that you're about to lose your cool with a four year old."

"Oh, what, so now I gotta run my parenting style by you first? Is that it? Cause the last time I checked, there's only one of us who's ever raised another kid, and that would be me."

"What are you talking about?"

"What am I talking about? I'm talking about you, dumb ass. About how I practically raised YOU. You don't seem any worse for the wear because of it."

"You never yelled at me like how you just yelled at her. Not when I was four, anyways."

"Yeah? Well, Dad yelled at me like that all the time when I was four and I turned out just fine."

"He yelled at ME all the time like that too, and I didn't." That comment from Sam struck Dean right between the eyes, but his anger and ego weren't going to back down. He held up his hands.

"Sammy, enough."

"But Dean-"

"I said, enough."

"Fine," Sam huffed, sitting back in his chair. Dean nodded once, as if the battle was over, and he was accepting Sam's acquiescence. With a furrowed brow, he focused on the lore books, thumbing his way through them and trying not to think about what Sam had said. When the timer went off, he sent up a silent prayer that she was going to give him the answer he was looking for, and this whole thing would be over. He conscientiously took a deep breath, and tried to modify his voice a bit.

"Natalie," he said, relieved when it came out in a firm tone instead of a screaming one. He didn't have to tell her to come; she slid off the chair of her own accord. His brain sagged with relief when he noted she didn't have her arms crossed and she wasn't stomping. But she had a stoic look on her face that Dean wasn't used to seeing. Except in the mirror.

He swallowed, and leaned his elbows on his knees again very meticulously. "Alright, kid. You come up with the right answer this time around?"

Natalie looked his square in the eye. In a flat voice, she said, "Yes, sir."

"Good. What did you do wrong?"

"I took your phone and played on it."

"Are you allowed to do that without my permission? Whether I've been using it or not?"

"No, sir."

"Good. You got anything more to say?"

"Yes, sir," she said, her face hardening, just like his. "I'm not talking to you anymore."

That threw Dean for a loop. Out of all the things he was expecting to come out of her mouth, that was one of the last. His mind instantly went on the defense, and he felt his face harden, a mirror image of hers. "Fine," he growled at her. She scowled back. He pointed a finger in her face. "But you WILL continue to do what I tell you to do, when I tell you to do it. You understand me?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." Dean sat back, satisfied that he had gotten his point across. Then he realized he had no idea what to do next. She had never said anything like that before, and so he didn't know what his next move should be. Natalie, however, knew that they were done. She turned on her heel, walked calmly over to the couch, and turned off the TV. She pulled her crayons and coloring book out of her backpack, and sprawled out on the floor. Dean's eyebrows went up in surprise, but he didn't comment. He simply turned back in his chair, and once again, to his annoyance, found Sam staring at him.

"You proud of yourself?" Sam said, a bitter edge to his voice. Dean just gave him The Eye, but that didn't stop him. "You made her so angry that she's not going to speak to you."

"I punished her for her disobedience. Not my fault how she chooses to act about it."

"Dean, that's the point exactly! It IS your fault. You're driving her away."

"And you're trying to coddle her."

"That's not what I'm trying to do at all!"

"Really, Sam? 'Cause it seems to me that you think I should treat every act of disobedience with unicorn stickers and kitten cuddles."

Sam gave him a resounding bitch face. "What I'm saying is that you losing your temper and punishing her when she doesn't know why she's being punished isn't doing her any favors."

"Did you miss the whole freaking exchange? She knows what she did, Sam."

"No, she's telling you what you WANT to hear to get herself out of trouble. She doesn't understand why it was a problem for her to take the phone when you weren't using it. You're overestimating her ability to grasp the situation."

"And you're underestimating her. She's the damn smartest kid I've ever met, and you know it. Hell, she's smarter than you. And you're telling me that she doesn't get that not taking my phone means not taking my phone?!"

Sam threw up his hands in frustration. "All I'm saying is that you're expecting her to act like an adult. Don't forget that she's a kid."

"Noted," Dean growled angrily, turning away from Sam, walking towards the front door. He just needed a breath of air- all the tension in the room was making his tee shirt collar too tight. As he reached for the doorknob, he heard Sam scoff under his breath. With his short fuse already burned through, he turned back to Sam. "WHAT?!" he roared. Sam looked like he was barely fazed by Dean's outburst.

"Nothing," he said quietly.

"Oh, so now you're not talking to me either? Fine by me."

"Don't mix me up in this. You made your bed, you're gonna have to lie in it."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I don't want to hear it when you can't take the fact that Natalie's not talking to you."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Please. She'll be talking to me again in an hour."

Oh, how wrong he was.

For the rest of the day, Natalie didn't say two words to Dean. When he asked her if she wanted another juice box, she completely ignored him, getting up and getting it herself from the fridge. Dean had just chuckled at first at her stubbornness, thinking it wouldn't last, but as the day wore on and she still wasn't talking, a small part of him started getting worried. Sam volunteered to go pick up some dinner for the three of them, and she had run over to Sam, begging to go with him, clearly not wanting to be left alone in the room with Dean. That stung, big time. Sam had tried to help that little situation out by pointedly saying "goodbye" to Dean while holding Natalie in his arms as they were getting ready to head out. Natalie, however, turned her face away and started chatting with Sam about all the places they could go to get dinner. Dean was surprised by a small pocket of emptiness growing in his chest at her refusal to say goodbye. He brushed the feeling aside. The kid couldn't stay mad forever...could she?

A horrible thought came crashing over him. Dean started thinking about just how stubborn the little monkey really was. When she was three, she decided that she was responsible for dressing herself, and had done so, refusing all help even when she got her head stuck in a pair of leggings. When she was two, she decided she was done with diapers and after one day, had basically potty trained herself. At the time, Dean had been nothing but grateful, but now he saw her attitude in a different light. She had often refused to speak words until she knew that she was saying them correctly, making Sam or Dean say them repeatedly until she could do it too. As the pieces started to fall together, the emptiness in Dean's chest grew.

Of course she was stubborn enough to stop talking to him altogether. She was a Winchester.

Just then, Sam and Natalie came back in to the room. Sam had apparently said something that made his niece giggle with delight. Dean's heart ached, suddenly realizing how much he relished the sound of her laughter, and how much he had been missing it this day.

"What's the joke?" he asked, hoping to engage her. She instantly stopped laughing, let go of Sam's hand, and walked back over to her crayons like Dean wasn't even in the room. The pocket of emptiness that in his heart was now holding all of his vital organs hostage. He rolled his jaw around on its hinges, trying to mask the hurt. Sam, however, noticed. He cleared his throat and said calmly, "Natalie, come to the table please. Let's eat."

Purely as a reflex, Dean said, "Clean up your crayons first." To his immense surprise, she immediately obeyed- picking up her crayons and putting them neatly in the box, then putting the whole shebang on the sofa where she slept so she could play with them later. She walked silently over to her seat, and climbed up, not wanting any help. Dean took that as a good sign- she was at least responding to what he told her, even if she still wasn't talking. Emboldened by this revelation, he tried to make small talk again.

"So, squirt, what did you end up getting? Usual grilled cheese?" _C'mon kid, talk to me,_ he silently begged. But she just acted like she had been doing all day- like he wasn't even there. The pocket inside Dean grew larger. She pulled her sandwich towards her, and took a bite, chewing noisily. Sam looked at Dean, concerned with the toll this was taking on his brother. Something as simple as a four year old not talking to him was eating him up just as much as anything else Sam had seen Dean deal with- and he had dealt with a lot. For all the emotional havoc she was wreaking, Natalie seemed supremely unconcerned. But Dean noticed she wasn't eating at her usual pace. After a few minutes, she had only eaten half her sandwich, and was now picking at the other half.

"Natalie, please don't play with your food," Sam instructed gently. She dropped her hands away from the sandwich, but didn't continue eating. The brothers exchanged another glance. She usually ate like a dockhand and had a snack before bed, but picking at her food- especially her favorite dinner- was very unusual. Sam cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably.

"Bug, aren't you going to finish your dinner?" he asked.

"Not hungry," she said grimly. Dean's eyebrows shot into his hairline. Second time today that the kid had shocked him with what came out of her mouth. Sam saw the fact register in Dean's brain, and spoke up first.

"You need to eat a bit more, please. If you don't, you're going to be hungry tonight."

"I don't want it."

"Take a couple more bites."

She didn't answer- she just pushed the food around again. Dean, in spite of the emptiness, felt himself starting to get pissed again. Sam saw the fuse beginning to shorten, and jumped in before Dean could shoot off his mouth.

"Natalie. You need to eat three more bites, now," Sam said in a stern voice, trying to stem the tide of anger he could feel coming off of Dean. He fixed his niece with a firm glance, praying that it would be enough for once. And of course, it wasn't.

"I'm not hungry," Natalie insisted again, a bit more attitude behind her words. That touch of attitude was all it took.

"Natalie, you eat your dinner, or you're going to bed right now," Dean suddenly barked at her. Both she and Sam froze upon hearing Dean's command. Natalie's gaze slowly slid to her father, looking at him full in the face for the first time since she had declared that she wasn't speaking to him again. Just as his heart started to unthaw a bit, seeing her eyes, she pushed her sandwich away defiantly. But before Dean could do anything, she hopped off her chair, walked over to the sofa, laid down, and covered herself with her blanket.

Dean's jaw hit the floor. She had willingly put herself to bed rather than eat her dinner or talk to him. He couldn't believe what had just happened. He tried a different tactic. "I'm serious, Natalie. You will stay there for the rest of the night if you don't get back here and eat, right now." The only response he got was her pulling her blanket higher up over her head. Dean turned to Sam, but Sam had no words either. Finally, they both had to admit defeat. The pocket of emptiness burned through the anger, and started to consume Dean again.

After they finished their own food, they had gotten back down to their research. Dean looked up every now and then to see if Natalie was still holding strong in her resolve to stay in bed all night. She didn't move once. He didn't try to say anything to her- what was the point? She wouldn't answer. Finally, they both went to bed themselves. The hollow, aching emptiness inside Dean was all he could think about. He tried to ignore it as he fell into a troubled sleep.

The next morning, Dean woke up. The void in his heart woke up right with him. He lay there for a minute, trying to figure out how he was going to get through the day if she was holding on to her resolve not to talk to him. He realized how harsh he'd been with her, and was wondering if she'd ever forgive him for losing his temper all over her like that. He shifted uncomfortably, when his foot hit something outside his bedclothes. He jumped up, and what he saw down by his feet made his heart stop.

Natalie was curled up like a cat at the foot of his bed.

When she felt his foot hit her back, she bounced up, her eyes immediately seeking Dean's. Dean knew she had been awake for hours. It suddenly dawned on him that she had been laying there, waiting for him. He pushed himself into an upright position on his elbows, and because he couldn't handle the silence, he spoke.

"Hey kiddo- you okay?" he said, his morning voice still gruff with sleep. Even if she was still pissed and giving him the silent treatment, he had to know if she was alright.

"I would like to talk to you again, please."

If he hadn't been looking right at her, he wouldn't have believed it. She was talking to him again. His baby girl was talking to him again. He wanted to reach out, pull her into his chest, and never let her go. But she was still sitting at the edge of his bed, clearly nervous about his reactions, and he didn't want to spook her now that she was talking again. He moved slowly, sitting up carefully.

"Okay. Okay," he said quietly. "So let's talk."

She made sure she was looking him right in the eye. "I'm sorry I was real bad yesterday. I know I'm not a'sposed to take your phone, but I wanted it. I was bad, and I will be good again, okay?" And it suddenly hit Dean between the eyes. Sam was right. Dean was expecting Natalie to act like an adult- so that's exactly what she was doing. To make him happy. He was essentially forcing his four year old to act like she was forty, apologizing for something that she didn't truly understand. He couldn't take it anymore. He reached out and pulled her into his lap. He felt her immediately relax in his arms. The emptiness that had eaten him alive last night disappeared as he held her.

"I'm sorry too, squirt," he said quietly. "I'm sorry I got so angry yesterday, and didn't even tell you why."

"It was because I was bad. I know."

"It was because I was stupid. I wasn't thinking, kiddo. I reacted in anger. How many times have we talked about that?"

"Lots."

"Why isn't it good to react in anger, especially if you're a hunter?"

"Cause sometimes you can get hurt 'cause you're not thinking 'cause you're angry."

"Exactly. And I was a real bad hunter yesterday. I'm really, really sorry. Can you forgive me?" He leaned down and touched his nose to hers. Her eyes lit up, causing his heart to do a somersault.

"Yes, Daddy! I love you." As simple as that. Dean's formerly empty heart expanded to nearly bursting out of his chest. He hugged her close once more, and then leaned back, looking at this kid who had changed his life completely.

"Do you really understand why you're not supposed to take my phone, even if I'm not using it?" Dean asked. He had to know if she did understand, or if she was saying what he wanted to hear.

She nodded vigorously. "Yup. You need the phone for research and to hunt monsters." She tilted her head to the side a bit. "Can I play on it sometimes? When you're not using it?"

"If you ask me first, and I'm not using it, you totally can. But only when I say so," Dean said. He grinned at her. "You're so damn smart. You know that?"

"Yup."

That made him laugh. "You're probably starving, aren't you?" he said, knowing her better than she knew herself. Natalie gave an enthusiastic nod. "I figured. Go wake up Uncle Sam and we'll go get breakfast, okay?"

Her eyes immediately turned gleeful and mischievous. "Do I have to wake him up like a normal person?" Dean grinned- his four year old was four again. He gave her an identical mischievous grin back.

"Surprise me."


	27. What Was Always Meant to Be Part 1

**Happy Friday, Beautiful SPN Family! Here's your next installment of the Natalie series. This is a sort-of case story, in that it's in three parts. You'll see what I mean after you read.**

 **Thank you thank you thank you to all of you who take the time to read, review, favorite, all those wonderful things. Apologies if I've not responded to your review- I truly try to get to each and everyone of them. To all my guests who review- I adore you as well. Thank you all for taking your time to encourage and support me with your comments- you all are manna from Heaven. I'm also always taking requests- it will get me a while to get to them, but if they're true to Natalie's character, I'll totally write you a story.**

 **Credit for this story goes to Jenmm31- she's the one who helped me construct and sew this one together- I only had bits and pieces of it, and she helped me put it together. Go show her some love and do yourself a favor- read her amazing stories. One Day at a Time, Growing Up, Winchester Style, and everything else (especially her Emily stories) She's a talented, brilliant writer and on a personal note, one of the truest friends I've ever had. Thanks Sammy, for everything.**

 **I hope you all have a wonderful weekend- and please, read, review, and enjoy!**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is 6. This is part one of a three part story. Please see profile page for disclaimers.**

It was a quiet August evening in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. It was just turning to dusk- the stars had begun to awaken; their lights flickering on and off like a light bulb. There was a gentle breeze, not even enough to stir the grass. Out in the middle of nowhere, it was easy to get lost in the dark. There were no city lights nearby, just the pale light from the nearby house casting shadows into the yard. If you looked hard enough, you could see the energetic six year old running around in the backyard of the old house. She was dodging in between the piles of junk and the old clunker cars that had been left here to die. She didn't care that she was playing amongst rusting metal and old leather interior. She was just having fun, playing the most enthusiastic game of Hide-And-Go-Seek-Tag that was ever played. Or possibly the only game of it ever played, seeing as how she and her chaser had made the game up.

Sam looked out the kitchen window into the car graveyard. He could just make out Dean creeping around the rusting body of an old '62 Mustang, looking for Natalie's latest hiding spot. The trouble was, she couldn't stop giggling long enough to keep her location secret. Then Dean would sneak up on her, jump out, and she would take off running until she found another hiding spot, and started laughing again. On the rare occasion that Dean actually caught the little speed demon, he would take his turn hiding in somewhere so obvious that she would find him in minutes. Sam shook his head with a smile- they had been at it for hours, barely even stopping for dinner. Sam had gone into the backyard and told them multiple times that the grub was up, but they had both resoundly ignored him. Bobby had finally shouted them both inside, but the second Natalie's plate was clean, she had jumped off her chair, smacked Dean on the arm with a loud "You're IT!" and took off running again. Dean had gotten the biggest grin on his face, shoved his chair away from the table, and taken off after her. This was a good hour ago, by the clock, and neither of them seemed remotely close to winding down now.

Sam grabbed a beer from the fridge, and went to sit in the living room with Bobby. Bobby was on the phone, talking quietly to someone, so Sam sat, lost in his own thoughts. It was nearing the end of summer, and it had been a great one. Natalie had been on summer break, having completed her first year in kindergarten, so they had taken her with them all summer as they traveled the country on their family business. Sam had been very concerned as to how a six year old would fare in the hunting lifestyle- the constant travel, sleeping in motels, the late nights- but it had been for naught. Natalie had taken to it like a fish to water. She was determined to be a hunter when she grew up, so she had been very careful to observe and learn as much as she could while she was with them. Sam marveled at her- he remembered being six, and all he wanted was for his big brother to play with him. Well, Natalie certainly loved playtime. But unlike a typical six year old, she seemed to know when playtime was over, and Daddy and Uncle Sam had to get down to business. She would even try to help by doing research, but Sam suspected that ruse was really to get at their phones to play on them.

She and Dean had also been working together on simple things, like how to avoid an attacker, or how to clean a gun. A bizarre thing for a six year old to learn, but not for a Winchester. She was soaking up the knowledge like a sponge, and demanding more. Dean had actually started teaching her to shoot. Sam had freaked out over that when Dean first suggested it, but Dean reminded him that he had been five when John started teaching him to shoot. She was actually pretty good with a handgun, but she was still pretty little for the shotgun. That didn't stop her from trying, though. She was a stubborn girl, bound and determined to be just like her Daddy. She would insist on practicing with the shotgun, under Dean's watchful eye, till she felt she had it down. Sam had been the other half of her supernatural teacher, working with her on the lore of the family business. He was finding it difficult to explain things to her. He felt that some of the subjects were too grim or gory for a child, but it didn't seem to phase her one bit. Not that she didn't get scared of it- she just seemed to steel herself and push through. Classic Dean manifesting itself in her.

Other than the occasional mini tantrum, she had been the best behaved kid in the world all summer. Her tantrums only really came when she was being put to bed. She still roundly despised bedtime, and to their surprise, could function quite well on between four to six hours of sleep, which, unfortunately, came in handy more often than not. But they were determined to make her get more if they could. Sam's eyes wandered to the clock now, thinking about trying to get Natalie in bed at a decent hour tonight. It always took her a while to wind down, no matter what had been going on that day. Sam was hoping that Dean's game would wear her out and they could have a tantrum free evening.

Bobby finished his phone call, hung up, and put the cell down on the desk. "Well, it looks like you boys have another case," he said gruffly. Sam sighed- this was the one they had been dreading. He didn't even know what the situation was, but that didn't matter. Natalie was scheduled to start first grade in a week, and this was going to be the first case they had gone on without her since the beginning of summer. As crazy as it sounded, he was going to miss having the little brat running around. He was going to seriously miss her. Sam took a swig of beer, trying to banish the gloomy thought. Dean and Natalie had both been so much happier now that they were together full time. Dean wasn't as snippy and moody, and Natalie was an out and out ray of sunshine. Both boys knew that she had to continue her education, but Sam was beginning to wonder if it wasn't doing more harm than good, keeping father and daughter apart.

The door burst open, scattering Sam's thoughts. "'Scuse me," Dean announced in a loud voice, walking into the kitchen. He could hear Natalie's incessant giggling. Sam's head swiveled to look at them, and when he saw his niece, he laughed out loud. Dean was holding her, upside down, while she was in hysterics. He had one arm firmly wrapped around her waist, so she was in no danger of falling. Her little legs were slung over his shoulder, and the two black braids in her hair were hitting Dean in the hip. She was pounding her fists on the arm that was holding her, trying to get Dean to let her go. Dean paid no attention to that whatsoever.

"I found this weird thing running around in the scrap yard," Dean said, peering with mock disdain at the giggling child hanging over his arm. "Does she belong to any of you?"

Bobby didn't miss a beat before answering. "Never seen her before in my life." Sam could hear the grin in the old man's voice, despite how he tried to hide it. Dean walked over to Sam, who was still seated on the couch.

"What about you? You ever seen anything like this before?" Dean said, leaning over so Natalie's upside down grin was right in front of Sam's. Sam played along, putting on a thoughtful face. He reached up and grabbed Natalie's head in his hands. He turned it from side to side, playing oblivious to her giggling. He turned her head and blew in her ear, which caused her to shriek loudly amidst the giggles. He put his thumb on the tip of her nose, and appeared to be looking into it, which caused an explosion of laughter from his niece. He finally withdrew his hands.

"Nope, sorry. It looks like one I used to have, but this one has way too many boogers."

"I do not!"

"Yeah, you're right. Way too many boogers," Dean agreed.

"I do not have boogers, Uncle Sam!"

"I don't know who this 'Uncle Sam' is. My name is Joe."

"No it's not!" came the retort, punctuated by giggles.

"Well, I guess I'll just have to drop this off at the pound then," Dean said, making his way to the front door. "A shame. It's kind of cute. But what are you gonna do?"

"No! Don't take me to the pound! I'm your daughter! Daughters don't go to the pound!" Natalie squealed. Dean pretended to stop in his tracks, then looked down at her giggling face. She waved at him from her upside down position.

"Oh, THAT'S where I know you from," Dean said, lowering her down to the ground carefully. Once her back hit the floor, however, she wriggled out of his arms and jumped up. She swayed a moment from the sudden reversal of blood flow, and she nearly fell over. Dean reached out quickly to grab her, but she was still giggling, apparently, no harm done.

"Whoa! Head rush!" she said, imitating her favorite snowman from a certain Disney movie. Dean had absolutely forbidden anyone from saying the word "Frozen" around her, seeing as that would set off a full length recap, acted out scenes, and a series of carefully choreographed dances from said movie. Once he saw that she was okay, he went right back to teasing her.

"Well, you shouldn't have been upside down, then," he said, in a mock scolding voice. She put her hands on her hips and gave him her best bitch face. _Damn Sam for teaching her that,_ he thought to himself.

"You put me upside down!" she said, wagging her finger at him. He had to grin- he had no idea where she had picked up the finger wagging- probably from Sam- but it was so damn cute every time she did it.

"Well, I'm not sorry. So there," Dean said in a haughty voice. Natalie ignored his theatrics and ran over to Sam.

"He acts all tough and stuff," she said in her superior six year old way to her uncle. "I totally owned him like a boss out there."

Sam laughed out loud again at her, picking her up and setting her on his lap. "Well done, Bug," he complimented. "But I have to say, it's a bit of an unfair advantage. You're much faster, and he's an old man."

"Hey- watch it," Dean said, pointing his finger at Sam. "I can still kick your ass."

"Well, if you yokels are done playing Masters of the Universe, I got a new case for you," Bobby interrupted irritably. Sam smiled patiently at him. They all knew that Bobby hated being out of commission. Ever since Lucifer had snapped his neck, he had been confined back to the wheelchair- Castiel hadn't fully been able to heal him. He had dealt with it better the second time around, but there was no disguising the longing in his eyes when the boys went out on a new case. He had loved having Natalie with him this last year- she breathed a new life into the dusty old house, making him forget every so often that he was an old man. But when a case came up, Sam could still see the yearning in his eyes to be back in action. He saw it there now.

"Looks like it's a skin walker in St. Louis."

"Isn't that a musical or something?" Dean said, perfectly straight faced. He got the double eye roll from both Sam and Bobby on that one. He grinned, very pleased with himself.

"Something's been going around a local frat house, killing off the students. The last victim survived, and he kept naming one of the frat boys as his assailant."

"So why don't the police arrest that guy? Maybe it actually WAS him," Sam said matter of factlly.

"Well, that's the thing. The kid the victim accused was, believe it or not, in police custody at the time for some stupid incident involving a rival school and a goat." Bobby shuddered, remembering the details that he wished he hadn't heard. "Anyways, it looks like you got-"

"A skin walker. Yeah," Sam agreed. His eyes sought his brother's. It had finally dawned on Dean what this case meant- that they were about to leave Natalie with Bobby again. Dean's head ducked down, and he ran both hands over his hair. When his head popped back up, he looked at the child sitting on Sam's lap. His jaw began working overtime.

"Hey Natalie. Come here," he said, his voice dropping even lower than normal, and sounding strained. Sam gave her a gentle nudge, and she went willingly to Dean. She stood at his feet, looking up at him with her wide green eyes. That made it even worse- this hole that was slowly growing in his chest- but as his time with her was drawing to a close, he just needed her physically near him. He reached down and picked her up, setting her on his hip. She was still searching his face for why she had been called over. Her little brow furrowed when she realized that she couldn't figure it out, so she simply laid her head down on Dean's shoulder. Her little face was still damp with perspiration from running around for the last few hours. Dean felt the calm and the solidity coming off of her, as real as the air he was breathing. She made him calm. She made him feel solid. She made him want to keep fighting, to keep ridding the world of evil, to leave her the best planet that he could. And here they were again- about to toss away those feelings of safety and comfort.

Dean knew what Sam would have said if he had been able to read his mind. They got back to Natalie as often as they could, and were definitely there for every holiday and special occasion. Which was great, but if Dean was being honest with Sam, or even himself, it was in the everyday he needed her most. They talked on the phone at least once a day- Dean had even mastered Face Time, a skill that surprised them all- but it just wasn't enough. Dean was terrified about what could happen to her when he wasn't there. Arguably, one of the safest places on Earth for her was with Bobby. They knew that Bobby would die before he would let anything happen to Natalie, but that was the rub- what if something attacked and Bobby wasn't able to save her? Dean was constantly torn between wanting her to have a normal school experience and the sheer terror of not knowing if she was consistently safe.

He moved towards the couch. Sam scooted over to give him room. They had to break it to the kid, and it wasn't going to be pretty. Last year, when they told her she was starting kindergarten, she was excited- for exactly one day. She came home, proclaimed that school was stupid and that all the kids in the class were dumb as a bag of hair. She had then informed them that she wasn't going back. And the scandal known as Schoolgate had begun. When Dean told her that she had to go back, she had stared with unbelieving eyes at him, and then repeated exactly what she had said before, clearly thinking that Dean hadn't heard what she said, and that there was no way that he would make her go through that again once he understood. Dean, who had completely understood the first time, told her it didn't matter if the kids were dumb- she had to go back anyways. The tantrum that followed had been one for the ages. They had never seen her lose control like that before. The kicking, the screaming, and the tears went on for at least a half hour. Dean had finally sat back, his lips pinched together in anger, and let her scream herself out. When he had finally been able to get a word in edgewise, he used his "I'm not taking any more of your shit" voice, which finally started bringing her down off of her emotional roller coaster. She hadn't been listening to a thing he had said, until he started yelling at her for throwing so much attitude around. When he said the word "bad", indicating that that was exactly what she was being, she had instantly stopped the tantrum. She just sat in a heap on the floor, still giving off the occasional hiccup or shuddering sob, but she was quiet. The rest of that week had been torture all the way around. Every school day ended in tears, which was extremely unusual for her, seeing as how she hated to cry. She and Dean even had a huge blow out on Wednesday of that week, and both of them were eager to forget it that it had ever happened. It was hard on all of them, knowing they had to be strict and force her to do something she hated.

It wasn't until the last day of the week, Friday, that they got some reprieve. Apparently, this school was very forward thinking, and on Fridays, they let the little kids have Computer Time. Natalie had always been obsessed with computers and phones, and she took that class and ran with it. She and Dean had had a very long talk about being a "tough cookie" and braving whatever you had to do to get the job done. She had silently listened to him, not looking at him the entire time he spoke. When he had finished presenting his case, she had simply said, "Yes, sir," quietly. She had only acted up one more time with Bobby after that, but that had been it. She had bucked up and done her time for the year, quickly soaring to the top of her class and staying there, but hating ever second of it.

However, the moment school had ended, she changed back into the Natalie they all knew and loved. She was so happy to be out on the road with her dad and uncle, she was well behaved, and she was clearly learning. Like all good things, however, this summer had to come to an end. Dean's mind recoiled in horror, realizing that he still had twelve more years of this to go through.

"Hey Dad?" Natalie piped up suddenly, breaking into his thoughts. "So for a skin walker- you use silver, right? Do we have enough silver bullets, or are we gonna pick some more up on the way?" she asked seriously.

"Natalie...look. You're...this one, it's...kid, you can't come on this one," Dean finally spat out in a rush.

Natalie's eyes widened. She blinked at him, uncomprehending. "But why?" she said innocently.

"You're starting school next week, and you need to be here for that. We don't know how long hunting this thing will take."

Natalie shook her head and smiled. "Dad! I'm done with school. Remember?"

"No, you're not, squirt."

"Yes I am! We had graduation and everything!"

"Right- you had your graduation from kindergarten. You still got a long way to go before it's all said and done."

Natalie's eyes couldn't have been wider. Sam had been anxiously looking from his brother to his niece, watching this whole conversation play out. He saw a trace of fear creep into her eyes. "But...but you said it was only a year. I only had to do school for a year."

Dean shook his head, despising every second of this. "No- I said that you only had to do kindergarten for a year. There's more school after kindergarten."

Natalie swallowed hard. Sam could see the questions building up in her, and she was purposefully clamping her lips down, not wanting to ask. Finally, the question that she was scared to voice burst forth. "How much more school is there?" she asked, very slowly and deliberately.

"Twelve more years," Dean said, hating himself more than he ever had in that moment.

Natalie's jaw hit the floor. Apparently, she hadn't understood that kindergarten wasn't the end of her education. Sam wondered what kind of an education she was getting if she didn't understand that. He remembered that she had been in a "kindergarten only" school, and the pieces suddenly snapped together. She hadn't seen any other older kids, and they didn't know anybody older than her that was still in school, so the thought had never crossed her mind. He looked at her now to see how this new information was going over.

Natalie was still staring at Dean, her mouth wide open. Suddenly, she snapped it shut, and pushed herself off his lap. "Nope," she said, turning around and standing in front of him.

Dean raised one eyebrow. "Nope?" he repeated.

"Yeah. Nope."

"It's not really your call, kid."

"I don't need school. I don't want to go back."

"The law says you have to be in school, Bug," Sam said gently, trying to be delicate so as to avoid another meltdown. Amazingly, she seemed cool as a cucumber this time around. Just determined to get her way.

"So? You guys do stuff that's against the law all the time. This will just be one more thing."

Both Sam and Dean were stunned at that one, and didn't know how to respond. Luckily, Bobby came to their rescue.

"Look, Little Bit," he said. "Your daddy and your uncle do things that the law should take care of, but they can't. You going to school is a different matter entirely. You need schooling," Bobby said gruffly.

"No I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I DON'T!"

"Natalie," Dean said as a warning. She knew better than to raise her voice to one of them. She withered a bit at Dean's tone, and modified her own.

"I don't need school. I can learn stuff on my own," she said, much more calmly, but still determined to make her case. "Look," she said seriously. "What if I-"

Her words were interrupted by a knock. She cut off suddenly, and all four faces swung towards the door. It was getting on in the evening, around eight o' clock. They didn't know anyone around here and they certainly weren't expecting company. Dean turned towards Natalie, snapped his fingers, and jerked his thumb towards Bobby. She obeyed instantly, knowing the gesture meant get over to Bobby and out of sight. She hunkered down underneath Bobby's desk, which he was right next to, where she was hidden from the rest of the room. Both Dean and Sam stood up. Sam walked quickly and silently over to the door, picking up his .45 on the way. Dean moved slightly to the right, so as to have better visibility on whoever was at the door. Sam held the barrel of the .45 up to the back of the door with his left hand, then slowly opened the door with his right.

When he saw who was standing there, his skin instantly iced over. He didn't think he would see this person ever again in this lifetime. His eyes dilated, and he felt himself mentally steel up for whatever was about to come. The short man in the impeccably tailored, very expensive looking suit was just standing there, grinning his close lipped smug grin. Everything about him radiated arrogance, from his perfectly trimmed goatee to his shiny shoes.

"Hello, Moose," Crowley said. "It's been too long."

At hearing the horribly familiar voice, both Dean and Bobby became as tense as Sam. Natalie didn't know what to think- she didn't know who this guy was, or why all of the sudden her entire family was on high alert. She slunk down further, trying to get a better look at the man from underneath the desk.

Crowley stood simply, his head cocked to the side as Sam tried to gather his wits. "Well?" he said suddenly. "Aren't you going to invite me in?" Sam didn't move a muscle. He had no intention of letting him past the front door at all. The suddenness of Crowley's appearance sat on Sam like a ton of bricks. Everything with Lucifer, going through demon blood withdrawal, being separated from Dean- all of that crap from six years ago came rushing back like a freight train. But this time, Sam was different. He was stronger. He was able to take this. He had a reason to fight- he had his family to protect. Sam tilted his head back.

"What do you want, Crowley?" he said, his voice low and dangerous.

Crowley heaved a sigh, then flicked his fingers carelessly. Sam went flying away from the door, and crashed into the wall. "I want to come in," Crowley said. Dean immediately pulled his .45 from the waistband of his jeans, and trained it on the King of Hell. However, Crowley didn't seem to care less.

"Now, is that any way to treat an old friend? Put that away," he said, gesturing to Dean's gun as if he was scolding a child. "There's no need for violence." Dean made a scoffing noise, and looked behind Crowley. A grunt of pain from Sam reached his ears, and he turned his head to see Sam picking himself up off the floor. "Oh. Well, you should have let me in. It was rude not to."

"Crowley, you have exactly five seconds to get your ass out of this house before I plaster it all over the wall behind you," Dean threatened.

"Still as trigger happy as always, Dean" He cocked his head coyingly to the side. "I've always fancied that about you."

"Four seconds."

"Alright, calm down, you twitchy puppy." Crowley's eyes gazed around the room, and they landed on Bobby. He looked confused for a moment.

"I thought I healed you. What? Didn't it take?" he said mockingly.

"This was Lucifer's handiwork," Bobby answered back gruffly. He hated the sight of this man- more than anything, it reminded him of how helpless he felt all over again. He tried not to focus on that right now. When Crowley appeared, he wanted something. He always wanted something.

"Why are you here, Crowley?" Sam asked, the venom dripping from his voice. Crowley turned his snake like eyes on Sam.

"Can't an old friend drop in to say hi?"

"No," replied Sam.

"And you're not a friend," added Dean.

"Ah, Moose and Squirrel, reunited and it feels so good. Tell me- how long was it before you two hugged out the fact that you-" he pointed to Dean. "-left him-" he pointed at Sam. "-to die in Lucifer's cage? Hmmm?"

Natalie wasn't sure what to make of that. Sam and Dean had never told her about the cage- never told her about Lucifer possessing Sam. They had agreed that they would when she was ready, but she was so far from ready that they hadn't even alluded to it to see how she would do. What they hadn't realized was that it didn't matter- she, in her thirst to know all things supernatural, had read a great deal of Bobby's literature all around the house. She knew about Lucifer's Cage, but she hadn't known Uncle Sam had been in it. Her brain spun out for a second as it tried to process that knowledge. But when she realized she wasn't focusing on the danger right in front of her, like Dean had always said to do, she clamped down on that as hard as she could. She was surprised to find that her mind obeyed her. She didn't move, but scanned the room for the nearest exits, just like she had been taught to.

"What? Cat got your tongue?" Crowley said to the boys, mockingly, when they didn't answer. "Shame, really. I would have liked to have heard all of the family drama. Oh well. I hear there's a new family drama. Why don't you tell me all about that?" he said, leaning forward, his voice taunting.

Natalie knew immediately that this man was talking about her, but she wasn't sure why. She saw all three men in her family tense up at his words. She knew she had to remain quiet, hidden, beyond all shadow of a doubt.

"You see, word travels. I thought that there was only one other member of your family, one other member that you boys would be willing to die for. And now- lucky me- I find there's another." None of them moved a muscle.

Crowley turned to face Dean. "Well?" he said. "Aren't you going to introduce me to your little bundle of joy? Or are we going to have to do this the hard way?"

At that threat, Dean immediately saw red. He charged towards Crowley, but with a flick of the Hell King's wrist, Dean was slammed and pinned to the wall. "And for good measure," Crowley growled, pointing at Sam, who was immediately thrown up against the opposite wall. Both boys struggled in vain- they couldn't move at all. Crowley smirked in pleasure at their obvious pain. Then his eyes traveled to Bobby, who had a shot gun trained on him. He rolled his eyes almost lazily, and flicked his fingers, like there was something on the end of them that he was trying to remove. Bobby went flying backwards into the hard floor, and was knocked unconscious. Crowley's eyes slowly scanned the room, looking for any clue, any indication as to where they may have hidden the child. His beady, hateful eyes locked on the desk. With another flick of his wrist, the desk went flying across the room, skidding to a stop at Bobby's unmoving feet. Crowley's eyes lit up when he saw what was underneath.

"Hello, poppet," he said.

 **To Be Continued...**


	28. What Was Always Meant to Be Part 2

**Hello Beautiful SPN Family! Hope you all are well and ready for the weekend!**

 **I must give a shout out to all of you who read, review, follow, and favorite. You guys are seriously the reason I keep writing. Thank you so much. Special thanks to my Sammy, who helped me sew this one together- Jenmm31. I am eternally grateful for her friendship. She's the best ever.**

 **Here's part 2! I hope you all enjoy. 3 Emma**

 **A/N- This is Part 2 of a 3 Part story. If you haven't, please go back and read the previous chapter, otherwise this ain't gonna make a lick of sense. In this story, Natalie is 6. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

"Hello, Poppet."

Natalie stood up. It was pointless to stay huddled on the ground since Crowley had flung the desk she was hiding underneath across the room. Dean and Sam were still pinned to the wall, unable to move or even speak. Natalie's eyes flicked up to her dad. He was obviously struggling as hard as he could, but there was simply no way to break the King of Hell's invisible grip. His eyes were panicky, but when he saw his six year old looking at him, he seemed to steel himself, and sent her a glance that said, "It's okay. You're going to be okay." Natalie felt bolstered by that, and lifted her large green eyes and looked Crowley directly in the face.

Crowley was surprised, but refused to let that show in his expression. This little child with the two drooping black braids was simply staring at him after watching him fling her family all over the house. She didn't even seem fazed by it. He wasn't sure if that was a good indicator or a bad one. She stood her ground, staring at him stoically. Even Crowley couldn't miss the resemblance to Dean in her gaze.

"Hello," she said simply, seemingly untouched by the situation. Crowley cocked one eyebrow at her indifferent tone.

"You're a pretty little thing, aren't you?" he cooed, as nicely as he was capable of.

"I know," she said with a smile.

Crowley jerked back in surprise. "And you clearly have your father's arrogance." He chuckled in a sinister way. "What's your name?"

"Natalie."

"Hmm...I thought you'd have something more symbolic or something, like Hope or Faith." He snorted a laugh, and looked behind him at Dean still pinned to the wall. "Or Chastity."

"Grace is my middle name."

"Ah, there it is. I knew the Winchester pretention had to be in there somewhere." He took a step towards the child. She didn't move a muscle. She just continued to stare at him impassively.

"Tell me, Natalie Grace. Do you know what your father does for a living? Or your uncle? Or even..." he gestured to Bobby. "What that thing does?"

"First off, he's not a "thing"- he's my Pops," Natalie retorted hotly. Crowley's eyes glistened briefly- he was finally getting a rise out of her. "And second, of course I know, dumbass."

At hearing a six year old call him "dumbass", Crowley got pissed. He knelt down, right in front of her, making sure he was on eye level with her so as to intimidate the little wench. "So then you should probably know that you're addressing the King of Hell, young lady."

"I'm sorry. Your Royal Dumbass."

Crowley clenched his teeth. This brat clearly needed to be taught a lesson in manners- one he was only too happy to give. "So has your 'Pops' told you how he knows me?" He looked over Natalie's shoulder, which made her turn and look at Bobby's unmoving form. "Let you in on his special deal with me?" he continued, regaining her attention.

"No."

"Well, then you should know that 'Pops' let himself be used like a puppet. MY puppet," Crowley said, using his intimidating voice. He glared at the child for a solid minute, trying to illicit any response from her. When he got none, he couldn't take it anymore. "You know, Pops is a stupid name, don't you?"

"Bite me."

Crowley got a very irritated look on his face, and swung around to look at Dean, who was just grinning silently but smugly at him as if to say _Yup- that's my kid_. Crowley rolled his eyes and trained his attention back on Natalie. He was still on his knees, directly in front of her. He leaned forward, trying to scare her. He didn't know why, but her calm demeanor was unnerving to him. He wanted to watch the fear creep into her big, green eyes.

"I'm getting tired of this game. Long story short- he made a deal that kept Moose and Squirrel off my back. And now, I'm going to do the same to you."

Natalie's back straightened a bit. To anyone else, it almost looked like she was just shifting her weight, but it really meant she was nervous. She refused to let that show in the rest of her body- she wouldn't give Crowley the satisfaction. "So what does this deal mean?" she asked with a lot more bravado that she felt.

Crowley's smile was dripping with evil. "You're going to trade me your soul, in exchange for me letting your family live."

"Yeah, I don't think so."

With all the strength she had, Natalie kicked him in the crotch. His snake like eyes suddenly went wide, and as the pain rendered him incapable of doing much more than giving off a strange "oomph" sound, he lost control of Sam and Dean. They both instantly slid down the wall, hitting the floor with a solid thud. They both stood upright as one, instantly at the ready for a fight.

"Dean!" Sam hollered. Dean didn't need clarification on what Sam meant. He dove straight for Natalie and in one strong, solid move, scooped her up in his arms and took off running. Sam grabbed the .45 that had dropped earlier and trained it on Crowley now, who was still curled over on the floor. Sam just prayed that Dean could get Natalie to safety before the shit really started to fly.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Dean held onto Natalie for dear life, and raced down into the basement of the house as fast as he could. He yanked open the door to Bobby's demon proof chamber, pushing down the horrible feelings of being back in here. He couldn't help but remember when they were weaning Sam off the demon's blood. The very walls still seemed to echo Sam's screaming, even though it had been seven years since that horrendous time. He couldn't dwell on that now. He had to keep Natalie safe.

In a quick move, he set her down, sinking to the ground with her, and staying down on his knees. He grabbed her face in his hands. She no longer had the cool, casual demeanor she had so eloquently displayed in front of Crowley. She looked exactly like what she was- a terrified six year old girl.

Dean pulled her face close to his, making sure she was looking directly into her eyes. "Listen to me- don't talk, just listen, okay?" he said in a rush. She nodded quickly. "I want you to stay down here. Do not leave this room for any reason whatsoever, do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir," she managed to squeak out.

"Good girl. I'm going to lock the door, but don't worry. I will come back and get you. But I need you to stay down here. Don't even think about opening this door once I shut it." He looked quickly around the room. Sure enough, all the supplies and weapons were still there, ready at a moment's notice. He jumped up, and grabbed the nearest one- a shotgun. He quickly got back down in front of Natalie. "Take this," he said, thrusting it into her hands. "You remember how to use it?" She nodded frantically. "Good. If anyone tries to come in this room, you shoot. I don't care who it is. If it's not me, you shoot, got it?"

"Yes, sir," she said with a gulp. "What's gonna be the password?"

In the midst of this chaos, Dean felt a stab of relief. Natalie was thinking about her training. He had always instructed her that if he had to leave, they would have a password for when he came back to prove that it was him. She was thinking like a Hunter.

"Zeppelin rules. Repeat it."

"Zeppelin Rules."

"Good girl. Don't leave this room. I will come back, okay? I'm always going to come back to get you. You know that, right?"

She nodded, a tiny part of the panic in her eyes receding at his words. He took his courage from that, and stood up. He was just about to the door, when he heard her small voice again.

"I know."

He allowed himself one second to pause. She was giving him their code for I love you. He turned quickly to look at her. She was standing bravely in the middle of the room, gripping a shotgun that was about the same size she was. His heart tore at the idea of leaving her here, alone and scared. But he had to help Sam and get rid of Crowley. He trained his deep green eyes right on hers.

"I know," he said in a whisper. She gave him a half smile.

He bolted through the door, and slammed it shut, jerking the iron latch into place. He pounded back up the stairs, pushing out the gut wrenching feelings of leaving his daughter down there out of his mind. He had to focus. Sam needed him. Natalie was fine. He was doing what was best for her. He had to get to Sam. The words kept tumbling through his head with every heavy tread of his boots. He bolted back into the living room, where Sam still had his gun trained on Crowley, who had just managed to get up off the floor. Dean followed Sam's lead and pulled his .45.

"That little bitch," he spat out, still obviously in a great deal of pain.

"Watch it," Dean growled. "That's my daughter you're talking about."

"I can see the resemblance," Crowley said through gritted teeth. He stood up completely, steeling himself. His eyes burned with hatred. "Let me guess," he began sarcastically. "You've got her somewhere I'm never going to be able to get to her. And I'll have to get through you two first."

"Yeah, that's about the size of it," Dean said evenly. Every fiber of his being was focusing on Crowley, watching every move. Any indication that he would get the jump on the two of them, and Dean was ready to open fire. "You have one choice here, Crowley. Get the hell out and never come back."

"And if I don't like that option?"

"Then I'll fill you so full of bullets your minions will be able to use you to strain pasta."

"Well, well. Haven't we upped our similes."

"Get out of here, Crowley, we're not gonna tell you again," Sam barked at him, almost to his own breaking point. Crowley just turned a wicked smile on him.

"See Moose, the thing is- I don't want to." He snapped his fingers. Suddenly, a black mist began pouring into the windows and doors. It filled the room for a moment, then immediately began separating into sections. To Sam and Dean's horror, each section of smoke began materializing into people. People with solid black eyes. Before they knew it, they were surrounded by six demons.

"I intend to get what I came for," Crowley said, the wicked smile spreading across his face.

*SPN SPN SPN*

In the panic room, Natalie stood, shaking in her tiny boots. Dean had just closed and locked the door. She had heard his boots thundering up the stairs, and she knew she was all alone down here. She found herself taking very shallow, short breaths. Once she realized that, her training kicked in, almost on autopilot. She steeled made herself take three deep, slow breaths. That calmed her down enough to start to think. She put the shotgun down carefully, and in the dim light from the open grid above her, groped for the lamp that she knew was by the bed. She stumbled a few times, mostly from her own shaking, but eventually found it. She switched it on, and the room was bathed in warm, yellow light. That helped to clear more of the panicky feeling away.

She looked around her, taking in her surroundings. She had been here once before, with Dean and Sam. They had showed her this room and explained all about it, telling her that if she was ever in danger here at Bobby's and they weren't around, that she was to come down here at once. She had wanted to explore every inch of the room, but Sam and Dean didn't like it down here, so they hadn't let her. She had, unbeknownst to them, been down here a couple times when they had been on the road, and Bobby was asleep. She had thought it was cool- like her own secret fort. But right now, it felt like a dungeon. It was actually a fort, not just an imaginary escape. And this time, the monsters were real.

Natalie thought about Crowley. His eyes weren't black, or yellow, or red. He didn't have fangs, or fur. But he could manipulate people with his mind. Was he a psychic, like Uncle Sam had been? Or like that Missouri lady Dean had told her about? Natalie couldn't remember if Missouri had been able to move things with her abilities, but this Crowley sure could. Okay, so he may have been a regular human, or a demon that just hadn't showed his black eyes. He had called himself the King of Hell. Did that mean he was Lucifer? Wasn't Lucifer trapped in his cage? She tried to think logically through all her options, when suddenly, she heard gun fire from above.

The cracking, reverberating noise nearly made her jump out of her skin. She whipped around, in search of the shot gun. It was still on the ground where she had left it. Over the frightening sounds of bullets firing, she ran towards it, and picked it up. She checked to see if it was loaded. The weapon was just almost too big for her, and between her jumps from the gun shots being fired overhead and her own shaking, she was having a hard time checking to see if it was loaded. This was the first time that she had been on her own in a situation like this- she had seen monsters from afar, but Sam or Dean had always been with her. The terror started growing larger and heavier in her mind. What if she couldn't get the gun loaded, and something came for her that wasn't Dean? What if they needed her upstairs? What if...

She suddenly stopped, and yanked herself upright. She stomped her tiny foot on the ground. "Get your head out of your ass, Winchester!" she said out loud. Her small but pissed off voice echoed through the chamber. The sound gave her courage. She could do this. She shook out her hands, trying to release all the tension, and grabbed the shotgun again. She was pleased to see that her nerves were obeying her, and her hands had stopped shaking. She quickly checked the rounds in the shotgun. Sure enough, they were rock salt bullets. She nodded grimly, satisfied. She snapped the shot gun back into place, and took it towards the bed with her. She laid it down quickly, and her eyes began scanning the shelves that were up against the wall next to the bed. She found the container of salt, but it was too high for her to reach. She ran to the other end of the room, and drug a chair from the table back with her. She climbed onto the chair, stretching up on her tiptoes, and was just able to grab the salt. She knew that the whole room was made of iron, but she also knew what Dean would say if he came back and saw that she hadn't salted the door. She was halfway towards the door when the panic stopped her again. WHEN. WHEN Dean came back. She repeated that out loud quietly to herself five times, and then willed her feet towards the door again.

She poured a thick line of salt at the base of the door. The only window in the entire room was the overhead vent, and it looked directly onto the devil's trap in the center of the room. She drew a salt perimeter around the devil's trap too- just in case. She knew it was always better to be safe than sorry. She realized with a start that the gun shots overhead had stopped. She didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. She raced over to the bed, grabbed the shotgun, and hauled it back to the center of the devil's trap. She sat right in the middle of the circle, cross legged, with the shotgun across her lap. Now there was nothing to do but wait.

She sat perfectly still for about two minutes. There was still plenty of scuffle overhead, and a mass of voices, but she couldn't make out any of the words. Every now and then she could hear Dean's yell or Sam's, and she knew they were still okay. But the sounds never lasted long, and that left her wondering if their voices had been cut off. She would push that terrifying thought back down, and strain to hear them again, only to have the entire cycle repeat. A new sound came- crashing furniture. She thought of Bobby, unconscious on the floor of the room. She prayed to Cas that somehow Sam or Dean had been able to get Bobby out of the line of fire, but she also knew there was a distinct possibility they had not been able to. What was she going to do if her Pops wasn't there anymore? The sudden realization that she could lose one, or even all, of her family tonight hit her like a freight train. She gasped, and was unable to keep the hot tears from spilling down her face. She shook her head, trying to stifle the thoughts and emotions like Dean had been teaching her to. She tried to focus on the moment- they were still fighting, and they would be okay. They had to be okay. Everything was going to be okay. She banished the thoughts by swiping the back of her hands on her cheeks, batting the tears away.

She sat, willing herself to keep still. It was difficult with all the adrenaline and terror rushing through her system, but she was a Winchester. And Winchesters were stubborn. She allowed no part of her exterior to break rank as she tried to pull her mind in check. Her thoughts kept pulling her in the direction of "What If". She was exhausted already, trying to pull them out of that never ending cacophony of what could have gone wrong. Even though she wasn't moving, the mental strain was wearing her out. Every time she heard the sound of furniture scraping across the floor, or glass breaking, or a human...or non-human...voice grunting in pain, she was immediately thrown back to the starting line. She ground her teeth together, getting angry at herself for feeling so emotional. She thought of Dean. She had to be brave for him.

She thought what Dean would want her to do right now. He would want her to be ready, be calm, and be alert. How was she supposed to do that? She remembered how Dean's face was perfectly blank when she was hiding under the desk with Crowley in the room. She suddenly became aware of her facial muscles. Her lips were tightly pressed together, her forehead was so furrowed her eyebrows felt like they were touching, and her jaw was locked down. One by one, she took charge of each muscle, willing it to relax back into a normal face, just like Dean did. It took forever, but once she started releasing the muscles from their tense grip, the other ones wanted to follow suit. A couple times, overhead crashes made them tense right back up, but she was steering this ship, and she made them relax again at once.

Okay- she was as close to calm as she was going to get. So what else would he want her to do? Be alert. Her eyes quickly scanned the room again. The door was securely locked, she had drawn all the salt lines, and was sitting in the middle of the devil's trap. She triple checked the shot gun one more time. She was ready. She was as ready as she could possibly be. The minutes ticked by in agony, as the sounds overheard got quieter and quieter. Suddenly, she was aware that there weren't any sounds anymore.

At that exact moment, she heard a thump on the stairs in the basement. She sprang up, her shotgun pointed at the door. It was go time.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Dean wiped his bloody mouth on the back of his hand. Other than a busted lip and some bruised ribs, he was pretty okay. He looked over to find Sam performing the same assessment. His worried gaze scanned his brother, but Sam was alright too, it seemed. In confirmation, Sam locked eyes with Dean and nodded once. Dean inhaled, and looked over at the figure hovering over Bobby.

"Cas, thank God you showed up," Dean said in his low voice, still trying to catch his breath. "We were completely outnumbered, and with Bobby down-"

"I am glad I was here as well," Castiel said, standing up, still looking at Bobby. "Crowley wasn't about to let you two win unless I intervened."

"How did you know we needed you?" Sam asked, questioningly.

Cas shook his head. "I just had a strong, sudden urge to be here. It was muffled, but I could feel that you needed me." Dean and Sam exchanged a quick look- neither of them were going to question it. Dean looked quickly at Bobby, then back at Sam. Sam could see the torn look on Dean's face- he wanted to make sure Bobby was okay, but Natalie was still locked downstairs in the panic room. Sam gestured to the basement steps with his head.

"Go get her. I'll make sure Bobby's okay," Sam said, low. Dean just nodded once, and with a final look at Bobby, he took off for the basement steps. He slowly walked down the stairs, keeping his eyes open. He knew that Natalie had understood that she was to stay in the panic room, but she was still a scared six year old. She may have opened the door when she heard the fighting stop. He scanned the basement. He didn't see any movement, which relieved him. She had stayed in the room, like she was told to. He knew that she was a good kid who would do what she was told, but they had just been attacked by demons in their house- so all bets were off. His heart went out towards her- she was probably huddled in a ball underneath the bed, just waiting for him to come get her. He reached the solid iron door, and turned the latch, throwing it open.

What he saw surprised the living hell out of him. Natalie stood, her face perfectly impassive, in the middle of the devil's trap. The gigantic shotgun in her small hands was aimed directly at his heart, and her finger was on the trigger. She had tilted her head, and was looking right down the barrel at him- just like he had taught her to do. At once, she looked like she was twenty-six instead of six. Dean immediately threw up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"Whoa, whoa, Natalie- easy. The password is Zeppelin rules."

Natalie didn't twitch a muscle, but her eyes narrowed slightly. "Say it again," she commanded, her six year old voice full of authority. Dean nodded slowly, showing her he understood.

"Zeppelin Rules," he said slowly, enunciating clearly. And then he saw it. He saw the calm mask begin to fall, the hands begin to tremble. Her lips parted slightly, and she took a shaky breath in.

"Daddy?" she said in a small voice. In a heartbeat, Dean rushed inside the room. She put the shotgun on the ground next to her just in time for Dean to swoop her up in his arms. She threw her arms around his neck, burying her face into his shoulder. As much as she tried, she simply couldn't keep the tears from falling again. Dean held her as tightly as he could. If it hurt her, she didn't complain. She just sobbed and held on to him.

"Shhh, shhhh, it's okay, Baby Girl," he said, whispering into her ear, trying to comfort her. "I'm right here, you're okay." She cried harder, burrowing her face into him. He reached up and put one hand on the back of her head, keeping her as close to him as he could. "I'm right here. You're safe. I'm not going anywhere."

 **To Be Continued...**


	29. What Was Always Meant To Be Part 3

**What's up, beautiful SPN Family! Here's part 3 of What Was Always Meant to Be!**

 **Special thanks and a big hug to everyone who reviewed. Thank you thank you thank you thank you. You guys make me a better writer, and I so appreciate it. If anyone has any requests, please let me know! Special thanks to my Sammy- Jenmm31. Go check out her fabulous works- if you don't, you'll regret it! She's a brilliant writer, so go show her some love!**

 **Happy Friday, my loves!**

 **A/N- this is part 3 of a 3 part story, picking up almost immediately from where the last part ended. If you haven't already, please go back and read the last two chapters, otherwise this ain't gonna make a lick of sense. In this story, Natalie is 6. Please see Profile Page for disclaimers.**

"Hey- is Bobby alright?" Dean asked as he walked into the living room, Natalie still clinging to him tightly. He continued rubbing circles on her back to keep her calm, even though she had stopped crying. Sam immediately went over to them, looking Natalie over for any signs of hurt or damage.

"Yeah, he's still knocked out, but Cas says he'll be fine," Sam answered quietly. Natalie's eyes slid from Bobby to Castiel, who was hovering over Bobby's unconscious form.

"Cas?" she said in a sniffly voice. The angel looked up into her watery green eyes. "Is Pops gonna be okay?" she asked, the fear in her voice obvious. Cas smiled reassuringly at her. He could tell she wanted to hear it for herself.

"He will wake up feeling better than he's felt in quite a while," Cas said gently. He waved his hand over Bobby, who instantly disappeared. Dean felt Natalie jump a bit in surprise.

"Where did you zap him?" Dean asked hesitantly. He knew Cas's gut instinct wasn't always on par with the rest of humanity. For all he knew, Cas had just zapped Bobby straight into the ER or something. He could only imagine the hoops he'd have to jump through on that one.

"He's upstairs, in his old bedroom," Castiel explained. Dean wanted to protest, that it was just going to be a pain in the ass trying to get him back downstairs tomorrow morning, but he was too exhausted to fight that battle right now. He just nodded his thanks at the angel, and turned back to his brother. Sam reached out to stroke Natalie's cheek.

"You okay, Bug?" he asked gently. She just nodded, keeping her head resting on Dean's shoulder and one arm firmly wrapped around his neck, but she reached up and took Sam's hand as it touched her cheek, and held on tight. Sam longed to pull her into his own arms, but she didn't want to let Dean go right now, which he completely understood. He kissed her little hand that was squeezing his, and then released it. She wound her arms back around Dean's neck. Her eyes scanned Sam's face, looking for any signs of damage.

"Did that mean guy hurt you, Uncle Sam?" Natalie asked.

"Cas took care of me," Sam said by way of explanation. Cas had already healed the cut on Sam's cheek, as well as the black eye and the dislocated fingers he had gotten from the one particularly nasty demon. Natalie nodded and looked at Cas.

"Can you please heal Daddy?" she asked the angel quietly. Cas looked at Dean for permission, who reluctantly gave it with a nod. He reached out two fingers, placed them on Dean's forehead, and in a second, his cut lip mended itself. His ribs were no longer throbbing with pain. Natalie sat up in Dean's arms and examined his face carefully with both of her hands. He smiled patiently, knowing she needed to see it for herself. When she was satisfied, she turned back to the angel.

"Thank you," she said quietly, and rested her head back on Dean's strong shoulder. Dean turned his head and gave her a kiss on her temple.

"Thanks, Cas," he said gruffly. Cas nodded back, then spoke.

"So what was it that Crowley was after?" he asked.

"He wanted Natalie," Dean said through gritted teeth. "He found out about her, and he decided that he was going to take her soul in exchange for us letting him run amok." His arms tightened around his daughter, as if to reassure her that that would never happen. Not on his watch.

Cas shook his head grimly. "Well, that is a mistake that he will not be making again. Even Crowley has more sense than to try it a second time."

"How can you be sure?" Sam asked, disbelieving. Castiel fixed Sam with a dangerous look.

"Because I won't let him try it a second time," he said, in a low, firm tone. Sam and Dean exchanged a quick glance as Castiel's eyes met Natalie's. She knew without him saying what he really meant. She felt a surge of affection and relief towards the angel.

"Thanks...uh...thanks, Cas," Dean said. Here was a soldier of heaven going to bat for his baby girl, and all he could stammer out was 'thanks'. But it was enough for the angel.

"You're welcome," he said. He walked closer towards Dean and Natalie. His eyes began scanning her tired, tear stained face. "You are very tired," he said to the child. "You will feel much better after a good night's sleep."

Natalie tightened her grip around Dean's neck. "No! I don't wanna-" she got out before Castiel touched her forehead, and Dean felt her tiny body go slack in his arms. He quickly put his left hand on her head to keep her pressed into him. He wasn't entirely sure he was comfortable with an angel making Natalie fall asleep, but Cas was right- she needed to sleep. Trying to get her down after everything that had just happened would have been next to impossible.

"She will feel much better in the morning," Cas reassured the worried father. Dean nodded his thanks again. "In fact," Cas continued, "You all could do with a good night's sleep."

Dean couldn't even get the protesting words out before Cas touched him, and the world went black.

*SPN SPN SPN*

The sun was shining in Dean's eyes when he opened them the next morning. He was surprised to find himself in his bed, and even more surprised to find his daughter curled up in his arms, still fast asleep. Cas must have put them here together, knowing that Natalie might wake up and still be scared. Dean couldn't remember ever sleeping longer than her, not once. He took a moment, smoothing back the tangled black hair from her forehead, just listening to her gentle breathing. The memory of last night was pressing on him. What would have happened if he and Sam hadn't been here? He was so proud for how she had handled herself- quite frankly, it was way beyond her years. He knew that she would still have run to the safe room downstairs, but she was so little- would she have been able to pull the door shut? And what about Bobby? What would have happened to him? Dean was still lost in these terrible thoughts, when Natalie began waking up. She was kicking the blankets off of her, just like she always did when she was getting up from a nap.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty," he said gently. Natalie blinked the sleep out of her eyes and turned her head to find Dean smiling at her. She looked confused for a minute, but then gave him her thousand watt smile. She rubbed the back of her hand over her nose and sniffed. Dean noticed that her eyes were still a bit puffy from all her crying last night, but otherwise, she was okay. At least, she looked okay.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked gently. She nodded, still not quite awake yet. "Alright then," he said. "Wanna go get some breakfast?" He gently poked her in the nose. She gave a sleepy giggle, but at the mention of food, she popped right up. Dean laughed- she was SO his kid. "C'mon. Race you downstairs," he challenged. Natalie, now fully awake, sprang out of the bed like a jackrabbit, and tore out of the room. "Hey! No fair!" Dean called out, running to catch up to her. He managed to get right behind her as they reached the top of the stairs. As they were taking off down them, Dean reached out and picked her up.

"HEY! THAT'S CHEATING!" she yelled out, full voice. Dean just gave an evil laugh, and as he reached the bottom of the stairs, turned around and deposited her about three steps up. She squealed in outrage, and jumped down the last three steps, hitting the wooden floor hard with both feet.

"HEY! What did I tell you two idjits about running in the house?" Bobby roared from the kitchen. Dean turned to Natalie with a pretend scared face, and she slapped her hands over her mouth to keep from giggling out loud. They walked into the kitchen, expecting to get yelled at. But what they saw brought them both to a halt.

Bobby was making pancakes.

He was standing at the stove, making pancakes.

Dean's mouth dropped open. Natalie ran straight to him and threw her arms around his waist.

"Pops! You're not in your wheelchair!"

Bobby patted her head and turned to Dean with a smile. "Nope. I'm not."

"But how?" Natalie pressed.

"Cas must have done it last night. That's what he meant when he said you'd feel better than you've felt in a long time," Dean said, still astonished at the sight of Bobby standing again.

Bobby's incredibly rare smile widened. "And he was right. Now," he said, looking down at the six year old still clinging to his waist, "whenever I catch you running in this house, I can catch you and bust your butt."

Natalie's arms immediately dropped, and she gave Bobby a look that was clearly trying to hide a smile. "You'll still have to catch me first!" she declared with a giggle.

"Challenge accepted," Bobby said with a gruff grin.

*SPN SPN SPN*

That afternoon, Sam and Dean sat down in the living room. They knew they needed to have a serious talk, and they wanted it to be just the two of them. Natalie had been upstairs playing for quite a while. Sam had bribed her to stay up there with the promise of a new book. Dean had rolled his eyes at that one, knowing that if he had just told her to stay put, she would have. It didn't matter. He knew Sam would cave and get her a new book, regardless. Bobby was walking around the junk yard, not having been able to do that for quite some time, and giving the boys some privacy. They had the living room to themselves. They couldn't deny the seriousness of what had happened last night, and they began their circular argument that they had been having for a full year now.

"Dean, we can't pull her out of school," Sam was saying.

"Why not?"

"For the one hundredth time, she needs a normal school experience."

"And you call getting attacked by Crowley normal? Come on, Sam."

"Look, I'm not saying that we don't take more precautions-"

"Like what? What else can we possibly do that we haven't done already?"

"I don't know."

"Exactly."

"Look- don't get me wrong. I want her with us just as much as you do."

"No you don't."

"Excuse me?"

Dean stood up, and started pacing. After a moment of trying to collect his thoughts, he turned to Sam. "You don't. Because you're not me. You don't understand, Sammy. All I do is worry about her. All I think about is 'Is she okay?' I can't focus. Even when we're knee deep in monsters and all kinds of crazy shit, all I'm thinking about is her. I feel...I feel empty when she's not around. I know this is going to sound crazy, but Sammy...it hurts. It hurts knowing that she's out there, and I'm not with her. All the stuff I'm missing. Day in and day out. I can be here for all the important stuff, but I want to be here for the not-important stuff, you know? Like if she falls down and scrapes her knee, or if she gets one of those stupid ribbon things that she loves stuck in her hair. When she begs me to play with those green army men with her. Hell, do you know how much it killed me that Bobby taught her how to tie her shoes?"

Sam sighed, and hung his head. "Dean, I'm sorry. I know it's not the same for me as it is for you. But don't think I don't miss the hell out of her too. Don't think I don't lay awake at night, worrying about her. I was dreading this next hunt long before it ever even came up. I just don't know what to do here."

Dean threw up his hands in frustration. "Me neither." Just then, Natalie came down the stairs. She had changed her clothes and was now wearing the purple top and leggings that Dean had gotten her for graduation. He was surprised- she never wanted to dress up. She had a rather large object in her arms- well, large for a six year old. Upon further inspection, Dean realized it was a laptop.

"Bug, I thought I told you to stay upstairs," Sam scolded.

"I have something that is very important that I need to say," Natalie declared by way of an explanation as to why she had disobeyed. She set the laptop down on the coffee table and opened it.

"Hey," Dean said in a stern voice. "What have I told you about playing with my laptop, little girl?" Natalie turned to him, wide eyed and innocent.

"This isn't yours- it's Uncle Sam's."

"Oh. Well, that's okay then."

Sam immediately shot Dean his bitch face. "No, it's not!" he said crossly to his brother. He then turned his bitch face to his niece, standing up and pointing in her face. "Natalie, it is NOT okay."

She brushed him aside with a wave of her hand. "This will just take a second, and then I won't touch it anymore." Sam's mouth dropped open, and he looked to Dean for backup. He should have realized what a dumb move that was. Dean was grinning like the Cheshire Cat. He looked at Sam and shrugged.

"It'll only take a second," Dean said, repeating his daughter with a cocky grin. Sam threw up his hands and sat back on the sofa, arms crossed. Natalie looked up expectantly at Dean.

"Please sit down," she said politely. Dean was a bit taken aback at the request, but decided to play along with whatever game she was on about. He sat down next to Sam, who was still pouting. Natalie pushed a few buttons on the laptop, and turned to them both.

"I would like to make a presentation," she declared in what she clearly considered to be a grown up voice. The shock registered on both boys' faces. They gave each other a confused glance for a minute, and then Sam finally broke the silence.

"Um...okay. A...presentation?" he asked, not entirely sure what was happening. He turned his head slightly towards his brother and said out of the side of his mouth, "How does she even know what that word is?"

"Beats me," came the murmured reply.

Natalie twisted the laptop towards them, so the screen was facing them. They found themselves looking at a purple background with silver stars in the corners. In the middle of the screen, in a shining silver font, were the words "Why Natalie Winchester should be Homeschooled". Sam and Dean both leaned forward. Were they really seeing what their eyes told them they were seeing? Dean blinked a couple times. What the hell was going on? Natalie turned, completely unfazed by their shock.

"Why I, Natalie Winchester, should be homeschooled." She looked at the cover page, and pointed to the stars in the corners. "I added the stars because they were pretty, and the purple matches my outfit! See?" Sam turned his incredulous look to Dean, who looked just as lost as he was. Natalie pushed a button, and another page popped up, entitled "Best Hunter Ever". She promptly turned back to the stunned men sitting on the couch.

"Okay. I want to be a hunter when I grow up. I will be the most awesome hunter in the whole wide world. And hunters don't need regular school. They need to know hunting stuff. Besides, lots of our family has been hunters. Grandma and Grandpa were! And Pops is. And you guys. So I will be too. It's kind of like what our family does. Like it's our business! Have you ever thought of it like that?"

"Once or twice," came Dean's voice faintly.

"Good," Natalie said, continuing, satisfied that she had just dropped an unbeknownst truth bomb on them. She looked at her webpage to see if she had missed any of the notes on her first point. She saw one, and launched into that explanation. "Oh, and also- there are not enough hunters in the world. There's lots of bad things out there- monsters and vampires and skin walkers and stuff- and someone has to fight them. It won't be the douche bags, because they don't believe in demons and stuff, so we need more hunters in the world to protect all the people." Having made her point, she clicked to the next page. Sam was still too astounded by what was happening to scold her for using the word 'douche bag' instead of 'policemen'. He just stared at the computer, which had just popped up with a page marked "Crowlee". The intellectual side of Sam's brain made a tiny note to correct her spelling later. He then shook his head- THAT was what was bugging him?!

"The second thing is Crowley. Like Cas said- he won't be after me again. But he might send someone to get me." At that simple sentence, Dean's blood began to boil. Dammit- the kid had a point. "I did some research, and found out that the King of Hell can summon a lot of demons and stuff- it's all in Grandpa's journal." Dean's mouth dropped open in surprise- how long had she been studying that? She continued. "He's probably mad that I kicked him in his bathing suit area too. But if he tried to take me again, I'll kick him even harder. And now that Pops is healed, he doesn't need me here as much. He can take care of himself, or he could even come with us!" She looked excitedly from Dean to Sam, but they were both still frozen in disbelief as to what was happening at the moment to comment on the idea of Bobby coming with them. She sighed, disappointed that her brilliant brainstorm was going unheeded, but she didn't let that deter her. "I'm safer with the two of you. You can train me more, especially if I'm with you all the time, so the next time Crowley tries to come after me, we can just kill him instead."

She turned to the laptop and clicked the next page. "The third part of this presentation is that school is stupid." She turned the laptop back to them. The screen was blood red, with the words "School is stupid" flashing in annoying neon yellow. She had added a graphic of an ogre barfing on the letters. She grinned with glee when the ogre blew chunks all over the screen. "Cool, huh?" Dean leaned forward, examining her handiwork, still unable to speak. She clicked on the next page, which was still blood red, but had a bunch of bullet points in a sickly green. She had made stink lines coming off of the list. Sam was flabbergasted- he didn't even know how to do that. She began reading the list, one by one.

"School is a waste of time, mostly because I already know everything they wanted to teach me. Do you know that most of my kindergarten class couldn't even read when we started last September?" She shook her head, as if terribly scandalized by the fact. "Some of them still can't. I cannot be around stupid people like that. Second, I actually saw one of them eating paste. Like, actual, real glue. From the bottle." She gave Sam and Dean a withering look, as if to say, _do you understand what I've had to put up with?_ "Third- the teacher kept telling me that I was going too fast- that the rest of the class couldn't keep up with me. It is not my fault that they are stupid. Fourth, I'm not sure she even knew what to try to teach outside of shapes, letters, and stop, drop, and roll. Please. I learned that when I was three. There are more points as to why school is stupid, but I will let you read them later." She clicked to the last page. Sam's mind was absolutely blown. He thought she'd just been upstairs, playing with her Elsa doll and the little green army men. He had no idea she was preparing an argument on her future education, and that it was actually pretty good.

"Uncle Sam, this is where I need your help," Natalie said. Dean did a slow burn to his brother, and gestured his hand towards the computer as if to say _what is happening?!_ Natalie turned her earnest face towards Sam, who suddenly felt like he was being asked to take a test he hadn't prepared for. "I know there's a whole bunch of stuff on the internet about homeschooling and books and stuff, and I need you to find it, please. I didn't know what to put in the Google box. But I think that you can learn about homeschooling online, and since you're always working on your laptop, that can work, and you can do that. Okay?" Sam just nodded mutely.

"So that's it. I need to be with you, Dad, and with you, Uncle Sam. This is a way that we can do it. Thank you for listening. I will let you two discuss this. I will be playing in my room if you need me." And with that, Natalie turned on her heel, and pranced back up the stairs. The boys still sat, frozen in shock. The only sound for the longest time was the ticking of the clock on the desk. Both Winchester men were staring into space, still unbelieving of what had just happened. Finally, Sam spoke.

"Did...did we just get a power point presentation?"

"Yup."

The only sound for the longest time was the ticking of the clock on the desk.

"From a six year old."

"Yup."

The only sound for the longest time was the ticking of the clock on the desk.

"When did she learn to use power point?"

"No idea."

The only sound for the longest time was the ticking of the clock on the desk. Sam broke out of his frozen state, and leaned forward, pulling the laptop towards him.

"Well, even I have to admit- she did a good job," he said musingly, flipping through the pages. "How the hell did she do this? For that matter- I didn't even have power point ON this laptop this morning!"

"What can I say? She's a freaking genius," Dean said, in a low voice that was clearly thinking of something else. Sam looked at Dean. He could see the wheels turning in his brother's head. After a minute of Dean's silent thinking, Sam started going through the pages, making notes of where he needed to correct her spelling, and making a plan to work on that later with her. Abruptly, Dean turned to Sam. "What if she's right?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" Sam said, tearing his gaze away from the hurling ogre.

"I mean- what if she's right? What if this is the answer?" Dean stood up, and began excitedly pacing around the room. "Why can't we take her with us? We did it when she was younger, and we did it all this summer."

"Yeah, but Dean..."

"No, Sam, just hear me out. She hates school- and don't even try to deny it, you know I'm right. I mean for fuck's sake- look at the stupid computer thingy she just did. She had more reasons why she hated school than why she hated Crowley," he said, waving to the laptop. Sam just tilted his head- Dean had a point.

"Look," Dean said, sitting back down on the couch beside Sam, his eyes sparkling. "You can teach her all the school stuff. I can already tell you're looking at all the misspelled words on those pages." Sam blinked hard, twice at Dean's mind reading. "I'll work on hunting and lore with her. You and I could be a killer combo, man. Think about it. She's already the smartest kid on the planet-"

"I think you're a little biased-"

"-and this will just help her on her way to greatness. Come on Sam! We can do this! What do you say?"

Sam sat back. He was silent for so long that Dean started to get a little worried. How could Sam not see what a good idea this was? How could he deny the fact that this was the best thing for Natalie? Just as he was about to open his mouth and let his brother have it, Sam turned to him with a smile.

"I say we just became teachers." Dean grinned and gave Sam a hearty slap on the back.

"Now that's what I'm talking about!" he roared delightedly. Sam just chuckled and turned his attention back to the laptop. He shook his head in wonder.

"Dude- we've seen a lot of crap. But I have to tell you- this ranks in the top five as the most amazing."

"Top Three."

*SPN SPN SPN*

The next morning, they were loading up the Impala. They had told Natalie and Bobby their decision yesterday at dinner. Natalie had been so excited and wound up that they couldn't get her to bed until well after midnight, and even then, it was just with the knowledge that if she was going to go with them, she needed to be in bed a decent hour so they could leave early. But they had found her sitting in the living room waiting for them with her duffle bag packed when they woke up the next morning. She clearly had no issues with her sleep schedule and was ready to hit the road. Bobby had expressed his concerns to the two of them over this plan, but after discussing it at full length with his boys, even he couldn't deny this was the best move. Dean was over the moon, and Sam was catching his infectious joy. Seeing how happy it had made all of them, Bobby was happily on board, too.

As Natalie took her place behind Sam in the Impala, she clicked her seat belt in place, and turned to Dean. "So where do we go now?" she asked, the excitement ringing in her voice.

He looked at her in the rear view mirror and smiled. "We've got some family business to take care of."


	30. How To Treat A Lady

**Hey Beautiful SPN Family! Happy Friday and Happy Fourth of July!**

 **This story takes place when Natalie's a little older. I wanted to spend some time on the Natalie/Sam relationship, and this is the result. I hope you enjoy it! A huge thank you to all of you who read and review. I appreciate you so much. If you want to request anything, I'm always happy to write what you want! I have a very slow turn around time- but I promise, if you've asked for something that's in character for Natalie, I will write it.**

 **Special shout out to my girl, Jenmm31! Go show her great stories some love, and get prepared for a boatload of amazing feels with all her characters! Thanks, Sammy!**

 **Stay safe out there this weekend people! Love you all!**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is 15. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

"Don't wait up!" Dean yelled over his shoulder as he was about to walk into the garage at the bunker.

"Where are you going?" Natalie piped up behind him. He hadn't seen her there, tucked into one of the chairs at the war room table. She had been partially obscured by the large stack of books that she had been obsessively digging through in the last couple days. Ever since they had discovered the bunker, or the "Bat Cave", as Dean liked to call it, both Natalie and Sam had been poring over the literature they found here. Sam's ability to read and understand most everything he found had served them well- and their school lessons had definitely taken a major upturn. Even though she still hated working on Latin, having all these new and interesting tools had peaked her interest. She would subtly push away all the material written in Latin, and focus instead on the Enochian and Aramaic stuff. Castiel had been right- everything was funnier in Enochian.

Natalie wound the scroll that she had been reading back up and left it on the table as she looked at Dean. She eyed his wardrobe choice- his jeans, albeit his nice ones, and a blue button down shirt. "Hmm...no plaid, on-point bed head- you must have a hot date," she teased. He pursed his lips at her, but couldn't hide the sparkle in his eyes.

"What? You're not going to throw a fit because I'm going out?" he teased back. Natalie's smile twisted off to the side, as per usual.

"Nope. I'm just glad you actually managed to pick up a girl NOT in front of me for once."

Dean looked around, and, finding a small wad of paper as the closest thing to him, chucked it at her. She deftly dodged it and giggled. "Brat," he threw affectionately at her. She gave his a close lipped wide smile in response. He just shook his head, chuckling to himself. _Damn Sam for teaching her sarcasm,_ he thought. It DEFINITELY hadn't come from him. Not at all.

"Where are you going?" she asked, picking up the paper ball he has just thrown at her, and tossing it back and forth in her hands.

"We're gonna meet for drinks at that bar that Sam and I were at last night, and go from there," Dean said, fishing the Impala keys out of his pocket. Natalie just shook her head slightly- if her father had seen it, he would have grilled her on what her head shake meant, and she didn't really feel like getting into it with him at the moment. But to her, her head shake was too obvious. Of course Dean would start the night off with alcohol. He couldn't meet someone at a bookstore or even, God forbid, online. Natalie had no doubt that he had met whatever lucky lady he was going out with tonight in that bar last night. She wished that just once he'd find someone elsewhere. But she shook it off. If it made her dad happy, she'd deal.

"Well have fun!" she said, trying to be casual. She liked when Dean went out- he was almost always in a good mood when he came back- but there was always a pinprick of a sense of loss when he did. But, like a true Winchester, she kept that particular feeling clamped down, tight.

"Oh, I intend to," Dean said suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

"Aw, Dad! Come on!" she said, pinching her eyes shut tight, shaking her head to dislodge the mental image he'd just given her. Dean just laughed sadistically, and walked out the door. Natalie's pursed lips twisted into her sideways smile, then she looked down at the tightly wound scroll on the table. She pushed it away, no longer interested. Sure this stuff was cool, and she couldn't wait to explore the rooms of the bunker that she had yet to find, but for some reason, she just wasn't feeling it tonight. She didn't know if it was because of Dean, or just a growing sense of...boredom, you could call it. There was so much to learn and know, and yet, she just needed to set it aside for a moment. She really didn't want to try to translate another scroll tonight, and she sure as hell didn't want to work on Latin. Maybe it was a "flip through Netflix" kind of night. She wondered if Sam was up for that- he was the only one who had actually gotten around to installing a TV and DVD player in his room as of yet.

Just then, as if in response to her thoughts, Sam came around the corner. Natalie was surprised- he was wearing a suit. She cocked her head to one side, looking at him. Normally, he only wore a suit when they were on the case. And at the moment, things had been quiet in Supernatural Land. They had been taking a much deserved break from the craziness, and were perfectly comfortable exploring this new hideaway. Natalie thought of Bobby, still in South Dakota at his house- the other place they called home. She wondered if she could possibly persuade Bobby to come out to Kansas and check out their new Bat Cave- she knew he'd love it here.

Sam stepped towards her, interrupting her thoughts. "Hey Bug," he said, smiling at her.

"Well! Don't you look all spiffy!" she complimented him.

He looked to the side and laughed. "Well, thank you very much."

"Are you going out tonight too?" she asked, a twinge of sadness in her voice at the idea of being the only one left in the bunker tonight.

"I am."

"Nice!" she said, clamping down on that feeling again. "Who's the lucky lady?" she asked, looking back at the stack of books, hoping her eyes didn't give her away.

Sam just chuckled to himself. Of course he knew that she wasn't entirely happy that he was going out- he always knew when she was lying. But that feeling in her was about to change. "You are," he said simply.

Natalie's eyes swung around to meet his. He was just standing there, smiling at her.

"I'm sorry- what?"

"You are. I'm taking you out."

"Well, gee, I'm flattered, but we're in Kansas, not Kentucky."

Sam snorted. "Not like that you little brat." Natalie grinned cheekily to herself- she had managed to get both of them to call her "brat" in less than five minutes. That had to be a new record. Her focus returned to Sam. "I figured- you're getting older, you're probably going to start dating soon..."

"Not if Dad has anything to say about it."

"...And I figured it's about time that someone showed you how you should be treated on a date." Natalie just stared at him for a long moment.

"Are you serious?" she said, her eyes widening. Sam's smile widened.

"Yup. Go on. Go get dressed."

"Like...for real? For real?"

He laughed. "Yes! Go on!" He watched as she slowly pulled herself up from the table, and began walking towards the bedrooms. She paused for a moment in the doorway, and turned to look at him once more, just for confirmation. He rolled his eyes with a smile.

"YES! I'm serious! Get a move on!" he said, laughing at her reticence. He watched as she took one more moment to process the thought, then a slow smile crept onto her face, despite her usual blocking-of-all-smiles thing.

"Cool," she whispered once, grinning. She turned and took off down the hallways towards her room.

*SPN SPN SPN*

About a half hour later, Natalie emerged from her room. She still wasn't entirely sure what to make of this whole idea, but it sounded like fun. Besides, she was curious to know what Uncle Sam wanted to teach her. She had chosen a knee length black skirt and a red button down blouse. She had to admit- even though she usually hated dressing up, it did make a nice change that she was dressing up because she wanted to for once, not because she had to. She had also chosen her tallest black heels. She was used to hanging out with a giant who was over a foot taller than her, but she could do without the weird looks of strangers when they saw them together. She had carefully brushed her hair back, but added no clips or anything- she didn't really care for that kind of thing.

When she walked into the war room, Sam looked up from his phone, then stood up. "You look very nice," he complimented. She just blushed and looked away, which made him chuckle again.

"Come on, we've got a reservation at Meditterano," he said, beginning to walk towards the garage.

"That's that really nice Italian place downtown, isn't it?" Natalie asked, following him.

"That's the one," he confirmed. She had no idea why they were walking towards the garage- Dean had taken the Impala. She was surprised to see a rental car in the bunker garage.

"You rented a car for this?" she asked, wonder in her voice.

"Didn't figure you wanted to walk in those heels," he said in a teasing tone. She giggled- wow, he had actually rented a car for her so she didn't have to walk. She felt...special.

"Not to mention, I wanted to try to give you a ride in something other than an Impala for once. Have you ever actually been inside another car before?"

"Does a cop car count?"

"Har har," he said, walking around to her side. Natalie's eyes widened as he walked towards her.

"What are you doing?" she asked, confused.

"A gentleman should open a door for a lady," he explained, reaching over and pulling the handle. He gestured into the open car with his hand, and she, still a bit confused, slid in. Sam had done that for her on numerous occasions when they were getting into the Impala, but she never realized that was a thing. She had always thought it was just to get her in the car faster. She watched as Sam made his way to the driver's side. When he had opened his own door, and slipped into the driver's seat, she spoke up again.

"Okay, so a guy should open a door for a girl. Does that mean that I'm just supposed to stand around, waiting for him to come open stuff, when I'm perfectly capable of doing it on my own?"

Sam couldn't help but laugh- this was _exactly_ why he had wanted to take her out and teach her this stuff. "It's a sign of respect. Back in the olden days, men opened doors for women. Today, it's not as common, but it's still a very nice gesture. A true gentleman will open doors for a lady."

Natalie was quiet for a moment, trying to process what he said. A lady? She was a lady? Since when?

They drove to the restaurant, just chatting like normal. Sam was impressed that at the age of fifteen, Natalie could have a very competent intellectual discussion with words that would make most kids her age scratch their heads in wonder. She had always been smart- always at least a grade ahead of herself when it came to studies, but he was proud to see it spilling over into her real life as well. He grinned, proud of his niece.

They pulled up to the restaurant. As Natalie was unbuckling her belt, she thought of something. She stopped, and turned to Sam. "Okay, so door protocol here," she said, a look of concentration on her face. Sam smothered his grin, watching her try to puzzle this one out. "So- it seems really stupid to just sit here and wait for him to come around and open a door when I'm right freaking here."

"If the guy uses a valet, wait for him to open your door. He has to get out and give the keys to the valet anyways. But if it's just a parking lot, go ahead and get out. But watch his body language. You'll be able to tell if he's heading for your door or not." With that, Natalie pushed her door open herself and climbed out. Sam just chuckled.

Together, they walked towards the double door under the lovely cream and gold awning. This place was very nice- very high class. Just enough to make Natalie feel very uncomfortable. Dean never picked out places like this to eat, and she wasn't entirely sure how she should be acting. Sam could feel her reticence, and leaned down to whisper to her. "Don't worry," he said soothingly. "I'll teach you everything you need to know."

"And you won't make me look like a ginormous dork?"

"Scout's honor." As if to seal the deal, Sam stepped forward, and held the door open for her with a smile. Natalie grinned her sideways grin in response, and walked through cautiously. The atmosphere inside the place was just as elegant as the exterior. There was soft violin music playing. The warm golden glow from the overhead crystal chandeliers and the tea lights on each table were intoxicating. The whole place seemed hushed with elegance. Natalie felt her insides shrink nervously, but Sam stepped right next to her, and she found her courage again. He gave their name at the hosting station, and they were promptly ushered to a table, Sam gesturing with his hand to let Natalie go first, following the maître'd.

When they got to the table, the maître'd held a chair out. Natalie's eyes quickly sought Sam's, asking what to do with a hint of panic. He just smiled and nodded, and she cautiously sat down in the chair the man was holding out. He perfectly tucked her in towards the table. Even though it still felt incredibly weird, she was beginning to feel very special. "Miss," the maître'd said politely to her. She gave him what she desperately hoped was a gracious and proper nod in response. When the maître'd walked away from her, she looked at Sam again, questioning. His reassuring wink told her she'd done it perfectly.

"Wow," she whispered, feeling a need to be quiet, especially in this atmosphere. "I had no idea places could be this...intense."

Sam just gently laughed again. For all of her intelligence, they really hadn't shown her a lot of the rest of the world. This was his first step towards making that right. "Tell me about it," he said. She giggled, glad that he was feeling the same stuffy-uptightness that she was. "When you really get into the depths of a relationship, you can totally have a watch crappy TV on the couch night, but this is how relationships usually start. Getting all the awkward stuffiness out of the way, while pretending to be incredibly pretentious."

"That seems counterproductive," she commented wryly. "Why go to a place that makes you act like you're some big cheese first when you're getting to know each other?"

Sam shrugged. "No idea. But I've always thought that if you can get through a pretentious date first and still want to spend time together, there's a good chance that you'll be going on a second date."

Natalie smiled, and reached out for the crystal goblet of water sitting at her place and took a sip. It was then that her eyes saw the sea of forks, knives, and spoons at her place. She almost choked on her water, but recovered gracefully.

Sam grinned again. "You okay?" he asked.

She gestured to the silver paraphernalia. "How the...how in the world am I supposed to know which fork to use when?"

"First off, good job curtailing your swearing."

"Thank you."

"Second off- and this is going to sound crazy- but start from the outside and work your way in."

"Seriously? You're giving me the same advice that rich lady gave Leonardo DiCaprio in Titanic?"

"Well, she was right."

The waiter came over about that time, and they placed their orders. They fell into easy conversation, thanks to Sam. He was a master at keeping a smooth dialogue flowing, asking about Natalie, how things were really going, what she had found in the bunker, where she was in translating the Men of Letters findings. That, in turn, gave her the subconscious clues as to how to keep the conversation going from her end. She, in turn, then asked him all about what was going on in his world. She was surprised at how much she didn't know. It wasn't exactly easy to keep secrets when you lived with two other guys, barely getting five seconds apart ever, but Sam had been working on his own research, which he was only too happy to tell Natalie about.

As they talked about all the things they were discovering by living in the bunker, Natalie suddenly broke out of their dialogue. "Okay, I gotta ask," she said, her smile twisting to the side as she covered her amusement. "How did you learn all this stuff? All this 'holding open doors' and 'which silverware to use' and stuff?"

"Why do you ask?"

"Because I know you didn't learn it from Dad."

That made Sam laugh out loud. "Well, you're certainly right there. When I was at Stanford, Jess taught me a lot of social niceties."

"Jess? Wasn't she your girlfriend that…..your girlfriend you were with when Dad came to get you?"

Sam gave a soft smile upon hearing her unspoken words. "It's okay, Nat. Yeah, that was her."

"She must have been pretty cool."

"She was," Sam said with a soft smile. He didn't say anything more, and Natalie didn't ask him. It seemed like a private thought, and she didn't want to intrude. Not to mention, all that touchy feely crap still was awkward to her. She was Dean's daughter, after all.

When their food came, Natalie found herself subtly watching Sam's use of the cutlery, and imitating him. He was amused and proud, watching her figure it all out in her own way. The conversation continued to flow effortlessly.

After they were finished, the waiter brought over the check. Sam immediately went for it, but looked his niece in the eye. "Okay- here's another lesson for you. He should pay for the first date. Sometimes it's nice for the girl to pay, but the guy should do the first date, unless you've already agreed to go Dutch."

"What's going Dutch?" Natalie asked.

"When you pay for yourself. There's nothing wrong with that option, either. But again, just like with the doors, it's considered chivalrous for the gentleman to pay for the lady."

"So I'm kind of feeling like I'm supposed to be a helpless, weak damsel here. And I'm not that. Not at all."

"No, you most certainly are not. That's exactly why you need to know these things. They're not supposed to make you feel helpless- these are just signs of respect. And any guy you go out with had better respect you- or he's gonna have Dean and I to deal with." Natalie smiled a rare, real smile at that. Sam settled the check quickly, and they stood up, made their way out of the restaurant, and walked towards the parking lot. However, just as they were about to cross the alley to get to the car, Sam took Natalie's elbow.

"Hey- let's take a walk around the block. There's something else I want to show you." She obligingly fell into step beside him. When they reached the street, Sam maneuvered her to the outside of the sidewalk, while he was walking on the side closest to the road. He looked down at her.

"Now this one isn't well known, but still- another sign of respect. A gentlemen walks on the curb that is closest to the road."

"Why?"

"Because if a car is going to jump the curb and hit a pedestrian, the man should take the hit, not the woman."

"Are you serious?"

"Yup," Sam said, grinning again. Natalie shook her head.

"Wow. That is...wow." They continued walking around the block, just chatting again, feeling more free to laugh out loud since they were no longer in the stuffy restaurant. When they reached the car, Sam held Natalie's door for her, which she accepted with a pompous "Thank you sir." Sam just laughed at her.

The drive back to the bunker was filled with their animated chatter. Natalie couldn't help but think about how cool this night had been. Sam made her feel special. He made her feel like she was going to be worth something to someone special someday. And he was going to be right beside her, helping her navigate these waters. She knew Dean would have done it too, but truth be told- she preferred a restaurant to a bar any day. Not to mention the fact that Dean's first suggestion for any date she went on would be 'make sure your gun is loaded'. She found herself gazing sideways at Sam, smothering a smile, but grateful for everything he had done for her this night.

When they got inside, Natalie turned to Sam. "Hey," she said. "Wanna watch some Netflix?"

He smiled. "Sure, Bug. Go change."

About five minutes later, she reappeared in his bedroom in her tank and sweats combo. She jumped on his bed, all properness shoved to the side. He tossed her the remote, and she began flicking through the options. Before she could settle on one, she suddenly turned and threw her arms around his neck. He was surprised at her sudden affection, but returned the hug. When she pulled away, he asked.

"What was that for?"

"For treating me like a lady. That was awesome. Thanks."

"Anytime, Bug."


	31. The Seven Deadly Stages of Boredom

**Hey Beautiful SPN Family! I wanted to publish before...I go on vacation! It's my first vacation in two years- I'm so excited. While I'm gone, I will be plowing (hopefully) through the list of requests! To those who made requests- thank you for being patient. They're all on the way!**

 **Special thanks to all of you who read and review. I really can't tell you guys how much it means to me. I wish I could take you all on vacation with me. And major shout out to my girl, Jenmm31! An all out rockstar, friend, and insanely talented writer! I can't do this without her, and I mean that.**

 **I hope you're ready for Natalie to cause a little chaos...with Dean along for the ride. :) Read, review, and enjoy!**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is 10. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

A cloud...a horse...a cloud riding a horse...a horse that looked like a cloud...Natalie rubbed her fists into her eyes. She had been staring at the patterns in the popcorn textured ceiling of their motel room for too long.

She sat up, only to be disappointed by the exact same view she had seen five minutes ago. The September sun was shining through the dirty windows, making splotchy patterns on the faded carpeting. She sat watching the streaky blocks of light, willing them to change, to move, to freaking do something. When they failed to entertain her, she shifted her gaze again. It landed on Dean, sprawled out on the threadbare brown couch awkwardly placed in the middle of the room. His foot was propped up on a stack of pillows. She rolled herself off the bed, and trotted over to him. He was lying with his left arm over his face. She stood for a minute, wanting to see if he would acknowledge her. After counting silently to one hundred, she poked him in the forearm that was covering his eyes.

"What?" he mumbled.

"Are you sleeping?"

"Yes."

"How's the ankle?"

"It's fine."

"Really? Or are you just saying that?"

He removed his arm from his face, and gave her a look that said _why are you still talking?_ "It's just a stupid ankle. I'm fine."

Natalie rolled her eyes at his words. Of course he would be brushing off his injury. He and Sam had been on a hunt last night. They had been chasing down a spirit that had been trapped in a section of woods. While on the run from being used as bait, Dean had lost his footing on the slick fallen leaves that were littering the forest floor. He had gone down in a heap with the spirit right on top of him. Thank God that at that moment, Sam set fire to the corpse, causing the spirit to burn away with a wail. However, the damage to Dean's ankle had not dissipated so easily. It was a pretty nasty sprain- nasty enough that Sam wanted to go to the ER to get X-Rays, while Dean just wanted to go to the liquor store and get whiskey. Dean, as usual, won.

Today, however, Sam had won the fight. Dean was unable to walk on his ankle today, even with a brace and ace bandage. He tried to wave it off, saying he didn't need his right ankle to be in tip-top shape to drive. He then tried to walk to the bathroom to prove his point, and had practically fallen again. Sam had all but pushed him onto the sofa, ordering him to stay down, which he only did with much cursing and complaining. Sam declared that they were taking an extra day before heading back to Bobby's, so Dean's ankle could heal up a bit. Sam headed to the Laundromat since this motel didn't have one. Natalie had begged to come along, to save her from the sheer boredom of being trapped in this motel room for another day, but Sam had put a lid on that one. Someone needed to make sure Dean actually stayed down, and honestly, between him and Natalie, the kid had the advantage on making Dean do something he didn't want to do.

"Do you want some more pain pills?" Natalie asked innocently. It was Dean's turn to roll his eyes.

"I don't need any stupid pills, alright, kid? I'm tough. Tough guys don't take pain pills." As a response to that, Natalie reached out one finger towards his ankle like she was going to poke it. But Dean's voice stopped her. "Do that and you'll need pain pills."

"There's nothing wrong with medicine, Dad. Especially when you're hurt."

"Thank you, Dr. Oz. Go away," he said, but with a joking tone.

"Sorry. Bugging you is my only form of entertainment right now." The room, for whatever reason, had no TV. It had been torture for Natalie while Dean and Sam had been off on the hunt. Dean had declared she was still too young to have her own cell phone, and her laptop was only to be used for homework and case research. She had taken to thumbing through the multiple books that the boys had on lore to pass the time. Usually, that did the trick to alleviate her boredom. But she was feeling restless today. She wanted something- anything- to happen, to relieve these doldrums that she was feeling. As if reading her mind, Dean spoke her issue out loud.

"Bored, are you?"

"Observant, you are."

"Gonna get smacked, the smart aleck is."

With a groan, she laid out full length on the floor beside the couch. "There is nothing to DOOOOOOOOOO," she whined.

"Yeah, I know. It's killing me too," Dean grumbled. Natalie sat up on her elbows, and looked at Dean curiously.

"What did you and Uncle Sam used to do when you were stuck in a motel room, and Grandpa was on a hunt?" she asked. Dean had been looking at her, but now he raised his eyes to the ceiling, trying to remember.

"Sam was always doing homework. Or studying. Or some stupid crap like that." He suddenly sat up, looking his daughter straight in the eye. "Did you finish your homework yet?"

"Yeah, about twenty minutes after Uncle Sam left. It was super easy."

"I'm going to have to tell him to start giving you harder crap. You're too smart, kiddo."

Natalie blushed and looked away. "Naw, he's just giving me the easy stuff." Dean snorted a laugh- just like her to deflect her own talents. She was so damn smart, sometimes he wasn't sure the DNA test had been right, and she was actually his.

"Did you finish that lore book I told you to read?"

"Two days ago."

"The whole damn thing?"

"Yup."

"Alright then, we'll see. Define a wendigo."

"Supernatural cannibal."

"Origin?"

"Cree Indian. Name means 'evil that devours'."

"How are they created?"

"Each one was once a human who succumbed to cannibalism. You eat enough human flesh, you become a wendigo."

"Abilities?"

"Speed, strength, immortality."

"How do you kill it?"

"Fire. It can be kept at bay with a protective circle of Anasazi symbols, and it can be hurt by silver arrows."

Dean raised his eyebrows- she was dead on. Even he had forgotten about the silver arrows. They went on like that for a while, Dean throwing any creature he could remember at her, and her answering all his questions. She only missed about 3 questions in the series, which, after reviewing them and her coming up with the right answer, was good enough for Dean. When he couldn't think of any other monsters to test her on, he looked at the clock. He made a dissatisfied sound in his throat.

"Well, that ate up about half an hour." He threw his arm back over his face. Natalie jumped up and started pacing around the room.

"There's got to be something to do!" she said desperately. Her eyes landed on her school books. "Wanna quiz me on spelling?"

"I'd rather let you shoot a loaded gun in this room blindfolded while I try to dodge the bullets." He didn't even need to move his arm to know that she had perked up excitedly. He just pointed to her with his other hand. "No."

"Can we go outside and do target practice?" she asked.

"No can do."

"Why not?"

"People don't take too kindly to a ten year old shooting a gun in a parking lot."

Natalie kept pacing around the room. She was going to come up with _something._ After another lap around, her eyes landed on a piece of crappy motel art. She walked over and began carefully examining it. Dean sat up from the couch, watching her.

"What are you doing?" he finally asked. She didn't answer. She walked over to the duffle bag where they kept the weapons, and started digging through it.

"You find an evil spirit trapped in the frame or something?" he teased. Again, he got no response. She found what she was looking for. Dean was surprised- she had a screwdriver in her hand. She drug a chair from the table and placed it right underneath the picture.

"Hey, hey, hey- what are you doing?" Dean said, no longer joking. Natalie turned her head, like she was just noticing that he was talking to her.

"Don't worry, they'll never notice," she said, and started unscrewing the picture from the wall, where it had been tacked in all four corners. Dean sat up even farther.

"Natalie, leave that alone," he said sternly. She stopped immediately, but turned to him with her puppy dog eyes. _Damn Sam for teaching her that,_ Dean thought.

"Dad, I promise- no one will ever even notice I took it down!"

"And how exactly do you know that? Do I even want to know?"

She froze for a minute, then recovered enough to answer, "Probably not." Dean just rolled his eyes.

"Proceed," he said, flopping back down on the couch. After all, he was bored nearly to tears himself. He watched at the kid unscrewed the picture frame from the wall, and carefully lowered the picture down. She placed it, face down, on the worn out carpet. She carefully pried the small metal tabs off the back of the picture, and she lifted out the cardboard backing. She stood up and placed it flat on the table, then came back for the picture frame. She carefully laid it with the picture and glass still in it by the wall where it was out of her way. She ran back to the table, and seized a pen from her backpack. She began scribbling on the cardboard. When she was done, she propped up the cardboard between the floor and the back wall, directly across from Dean. She raced back to the weapons bag, pulling out a bundle of cloth that was tied with a piece of twine. Dean's eyebrows raised- he knew what was in that bundle. Natalie skipped back to him, sat down on the floor, and untied the bundle, spreading it out of the ground between them. The silver throwing knives gleamed in the midafternoon light. Dean looked quizzically at his daughter. She smugly pointed to the cardboard. Dean sat up and squinted. When he finally made out the drawing, he laughed out loud. It was a balding man making a horrible face, wearing a suit and tie. Above the figure, she had scrawled "Crowley". Natalie picked up a silver knife, and handed it to Dean.

"Ten points if you get his head, twenty if you get it in his heart, and fifty if you get him in the crotch." She sat back, very pleased with herself. Dean looked at her, impressed.

"And you can hide the fact that the back of the picture will be completely destroyed if we do this?" he questioned, turning the knife over in his hands.

"All we have to do is get another piece of cardboard from the dumpster. They'll never know the difference," she assured him.

"Works for me," Dean said. He carefully took aim, and threw. He nailed Crowley's likeness in the throat. Natalie clapped delightedly.

"Yes! Nice shot!" she said, giggling. "Okay, so you got in between his head and his heart, so that's fifteen points. My turn!" She seized a knife, aimed, and sent it flying through the air. It thudded into the picture just to the left of Crowley's hip.

"Ah. I see you're aiming for his crotch."

"Always."

"That's my girl."

They continued throwing the knives, taking turns. Natalie would pull ahead for a moment, then Dean would take the lead back. Occasionally he would stop and correct her aim, showing her how to hold the hilt a little differently, or raising her elbow to get better accuracy. She would do it perfectly then, with Dean grinning on her like the Cheshire Cat. When the picture cardboard was mutilated beyond all recognition, they finally conceded the game.

"I totally owned your ass on that, kiddo," Dean said smugly.

"Whatever, old man."

"What'd you just call me?!"

"OLD. O.L.D.," she said teasingly, spelling it out.

"I can still blister your butt, missy," he threatened with a smirk. She walked over to the other side of the room.

"Fine. Walk over here and do it," she said, throwing that same smirk right back at him. Dean tried to keep the stern bitch face on, but he had to give it to her. She owned him like a boss on that one.

"Yeah, yeah. So now what do we do?" Just then, his cell rang. He snatched it up. "Hey Bobby, what's up?" Dean said into the phone. Natalie began quietly gathering the knives and picking up the cardboard, trying not to disrupt Dean on the phone. A few minutes later, he hung up.

"Pops okay? Did he find us a new case?" Natalie asked before the cell could even hit the coffee table.

"He's fine, just checking in on us. I should have let you talk to him. Sorry, squirt."

"It's okay."

"Wanna call him back?"

"No, he'd just be annoyed."

And that gave Dean a brilliant idea. "So let's annoy him." He grabbed his cell, dropped it into his pocket, and hopped on his good foot over to the end table between the beds in the room. There was an old white push button phone on it. Dean gestured for Natalie to come over to him. She did, and plopped next to him on the bed. Dean pulled his phone out of his pocket, and started scrolling through his contacts. Natalie craned her neck to watch him, and was surprised when he went past Bobby's.

"I thought you said we were going to annoy Pops?"

"We have to give it a minute, otherwise he'll know it's us."

"He'll know what's us?"

"Patience, my padawan." Dean kept flicking through his contacts list, looking for a good victim. He finally found one. He chuckled to himself, pulled up the number, and picked up the white phone. Natalie couldn't help herself.

"What are you doing?" she pressed Dean again. He just looked at her, held up one finger to his lips, and dialed the white phone. Natalie looked at the number on her dad's cell phone. It was Tony, a fellow hunter they had met when she was about eight. She sat back, wondering what Dean was up to. He held the phone a little ways from his ear, so she could hear the ringing on the line. It suddenly picked up, and she heard Tony faintly through the receiver.

"Hello?"

Dean pinched his nose, and said in a voice that didn't quite sound like his, "Yes, hello, is John there?"

"No, no John here."

"How do you go to the bathroom then?" Dean asked in the nasally voice. Natalie slapped her hands over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. On the other end of the line, she could hear Tony grumble.

"Son of a..." Dean slammed the phone down before Tony could finish the sentence. Natalie collapsed back on the bed in a flurry of giggles. Dean leaned over and grinned smugly at her.

"And that is what is known as a prank phone call," he said proudly. She sat up, still occasionally hiccuping giggles.

"That is hilarious. So what do you say? Is John there, and when they say no, you ask how they go to the bathroom then?" She could barely get the words out. Bathroom humor was still hysterical to the ten year old. Also to her forty something year old father.

"There's other stuff you can say."

"Like what?"

Dean told her, then handed her his phone to select the next victim. She scrolled through his contacts, her eyes landing on an unfamiliar name. "Who's Kate?" she asked questioningly. Dean shook his head and smiled.

"This nurse I met a long time ago. Stitched up a gash in my head, barely left a mark. One of the coolest chicks on the planet. She's off limits. Pick another name."

Natalie continued to scroll. She stopped at another unfamiliar name. "Jasmine?" she asked.

Dean snatched the phone away from her like it was a bomb. "Um...she...never mind," he mumbled. He continued scrolling, ignoring the bitch face he was getting from his daughter.

"Dad. Ew."

"Shut it. How about this one?" He handed her the phone back. The highlighted name was Pete- he was a weapons dealer back in Sioux Falls. Dean dialed the number, and handed the receiver to Natalie. She took it, a bit nervous, not wanting to mess up. After about six rings, she was starting to get really anxious, when Pete finally picked up.

"Pete's Place," he said in his flat, I've-answered-the-phone-too-much voice.

Natalie tried to drop her voice into a lower register to make herself sound older. "Hello. I'm with Kenmore appliances, and we're doing a survey. May I ask you a few questions?"

On the other end of the line, Pete heaved a sigh. "Sure."

"Is your refrigerator running?"

"Yes."

"You'd better go catch it then!"

CLICK.

Both Natalie and Dean laughed at that one. They continued calling person after person, until finally Natalie landed on Castiel's number. She bounced up and down on the bed.

"Oh, please, let's call Cas!"

Dean looked at her in disbelief. "Are you kidding? He's not going to give you the typical answers. You ask if his refrigerator is running, and he's going to put the phone down to go check. And then forget that he was on the phone at all."

Natalie wrinkled her nose, but she knew Dean was right. She recovered quickly, bouncing back up on the bed. "Can we call Bobby then? I've got a really good idea for one for him. It'll totally freak him out."

Dean handed her his phone with an approving grin. "Have at it," he said, pleased that she was so entertained. She scrambled over his lap to the phone, dialing Bobby's number quickly. She then plopped herself back down on his other side, and waited for Bobby to pick up. He finally did with his usual gruff "Hello?"

To Dean's surprise, Natalie didn't say anything- she just began breathing shallowly into the phone. He looked at her and opened his mouth, but then she shot him the same look he had given her earlier, and held a finger up to her lips. Dean could hear Bobby say "Who is this?" through the receiver. In a low, hissing, creepy as hell voice, Natalie answered.

"I'm so cold," she whispered into the phone.

"Who the hell is this?!" Bobby roared, and Natalie slammed the receiver onto the phone. Dean threw his head back and howled with laughter.

"And the student becomes the master!" he said, almost choking on his hilarity. Natalie jumped off the bed, and began making exaggerated, theatrical bows.

"Bravo," he said, applauding. She just giggled in response.

"So I say we call him completely randomly for like the next two days, just to really freak him out. What do you think?" she asked.

Dean pointed at her. "Yahtzee. And when we get back to the house, keep your trap shut about it, or he'll kick both of our asses. Got it?" Natalie nodded, then jumped back on the bed beside Dean. They both sighed in tandem, the realization that they were once again without entertainment hitting them at the same time. Natalie's eyes wandered around the room. They stopped at the mini kitchen. She turned to Dean.

"Have you even wondered what would happen if we microwaved a ball point pen?"

And the next boredom relieving game began.

After the success of making a very hot pen whose ink had made paper smell like it was burning, the game was on to find whatever else may create an interesting reaction when being microwaved. They did ice cubes, taking bets on how long it would be before they actually melted. After both of them changing out of their wet shirts after that particular experiment, they tried playing with the items the motel had so thoughtfully provided for the bathroom. The soap gave off the most noxious smell. Natalie had run around the room opening every window and door to the outside while Dean gagged. It didn't keep them from going right on to their next experiment, though. Natalie was a big fan of the shampoo- it had bubbled over and out of the small plastic container like the slime from Ghostbusters 2, which she found absolutely hilarious. Doubly so when the plastic container wilted from the heat. They tried various food items that they had lying around as well, all with varying degrees of entertainment. When they were running low on test items, Natalie started searching through the piles on the table where she had been doing her school work. Her eyes landed on a CD that Sam had been using. It was a Rosetta Stone program for Latin. She _hated_ working on her Latin. She knew every exorcism they had by heart anyways- why did she have to read it? It was a complete waste of time, in her opinion. She raced back to Dean, and held the CD out.

"What do you think? Can we fry this?" she asked. Being the responsible, always concerned about their safety parent that Dean was, he shrugged and answered.

"Sure. Go for it."

Natalie popped it into the microwave, and punched in two minutes. She stood back and watched, wanting to see what would happen. It didn't do anything for a good ten seconds. Natalie turned to Dean and said, "This is boring," just in time for Dean to sit up and exclaim loudly. She turned back around. Little sparks of electricity like lightening were jumping all over the CD. Suddenly, the sparks shot off into the inner walls of the microwave, letting out a large bang. Natalie jumped back as the microwave started to emit black smoke. Dean jumped up from his place on the couch and hopped as fast as he could towards the disaster. He shoved Natalie behind him, and grabbed for the fire extinguisher. He quickly pulled the pin and sent a white smoky blast towards the appliance. The microwave short circuited with a pop. Dean kept blasting the extinguisher until he was sure there was no smoke left. Both he and Natalie just stared at it blankly, neither one of them sure what to do.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" came a loud roar from behind them. Dean turned on his good foot so fast, he lost his balance and went tumbling to the floor. Natalie made a grab for him, but he was a goner. She turned her head to see a furious Sam standing in the doorway, his face slowly going from pissed-off red to I'm-going-to-kill-you purple.

"Uh oh," she mumbled to herself.

*SPN SPN SPN*

About five minutes later, she and Dean were seated, side by side, on the sofa. Sam was pacing back and forth in front of them.

"What the hell were you two thinking?" he yelled. Normally, if Sam was actually yelling, Natalie knew she was in for it. But since Dean was in trouble right along with her, this whole thing suddenly became very funny to her. Dean shared the same viewpoint. They both had been trying to hold in the snickers while they were being scolded. Sam heard them, however.

"Is this funny to you, Dean?" Sam roared.

Dean looked up, the mirth sparking in his eyes. "Yeah, a little bit," he confessed.

"Are you insane? You both could have gotten hurt, or killed! You could have burned the place down! And you've completely destroyed the Latin language CD!"

"Yeah, I'm really sorry about that one," Natalie muttered out the side of her mouth. Dean snorted a laugh, but tried to swallow it.

"What was that, young lady?" Sam said hotly, whipping around and looking right at Natalie.

"Nothing. Sir," she said, hastily tacking on the pronoun, and looking back down at her feet, petulantly. Sam just rolled his eyes and kept pacing. Not only was he dealing with a ten year old who had been given permission to misbehave like this, he was dealing with his supposedly older brother, who had no doubt instigated the entire thing.

"We're going to have to pay to replace the microwave and the picture backing," he said, hoping that at least this fact would make an impression on either one of them. Natalie's head popped back up.

"Nuh-uh! We can replace the picture backing with regular cardboard!"

"And how do you know this? Do I even want to know?"

"Probably not."

Sam threw up his hands in frustration. "Dean, don't you see? She's going to keep doing stuff like this if you keep encouraging her! And what if she tries it when we're not around?"

Dean turned to his daughter. "Don't do anything like this when we're not around. Got it?"

"Yes, sir."

Dean turned back to Sam. "Problem solved." He watched with amusement as Sam's blood pressure rose even higher. Finally, Sam stomped over to Dean's duffle bag, yanking out his wallet.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?!" Dean yelled. Sam just pulled a wad of cash out of the wallet.

"Microwave is coming out of your wallet," he said, walking back to them. "I don't think either one of you really get how serious this is. You've destroyed someone else's property. People can go to jail for that." Natalie squirmed a bit at Sam's words- they had just been having fun, not gunning for jail time. She hadn't thought of the consequences, and she instantly felt guilty.

"You're right. Sorry, Uncle Sam," she said, drooping her head.

"Well, at least one of you has come to your senses. Natalie, for punishment, you're doing extra Latin homework for a week," he said in response. Natalie's head shot back up, the look of shock and consternation on her face. When she met Sam's very serious and angry eyes, she swallowed her retort and dropped her head again.

"Yes, sir," she said with a theatrical sigh. Sam nodded, accepting her acquiescence. He turned to Dean.

"And YOU aren't driving until that ankle is completely healed."

If it was possible, Dean would have jumped off of the couch and strangled Sam on the spot. "Absolutely not!" he roared in disbelief.

"You are so willing to put yours and Natalie's safety at risk right now with this little microwave stunt, that I'm not trusting you with mine. You're not driving. End of discussion." As if to emphasize the point, Sam grabbed the keys and dropped them into his pants pocket. He knew there was no way Dean could catch him and take them, not with his ankle in its current state.

Dean's jaw practically unhinged, it was so close to the ground. Sam had taken his keys AND his catch phrase. He finally closed his mouth, but opened it again immediately. "When I can walk again, I'm going to kill you. And then run your corpse over with MY car."

"Fine," Sam said, not appearing to care. "Both of you better rest up. We're leaving first thing in the morning. I'm going for a run. You two? Don't freaking move, or you're both in more trouble." Sam grabbed his running clothes and walked to the bathroom, slamming the door. Father and daughter collapsed back onto the sofa in tandem, giving out a frustrated sigh. After a minute however, Dean turned his head towards Natalie.

"Worth it," he said.

"Totally," she replied. They tapped fists.

*SPN SPN SPN*

The next morning, Natalie had loaded the trunk, while Sam wrestled Dean into the passenger's side. Natalie never really knew how Sam had made Dean obey, but it was clear that Dean wasn't happy about it. He sat in shotgun, grumbling like a five year old. Natalie slid into her own seat as Sam started the car.

"Buckle up," he said over his shoulder to his niece. She clicked the seat belt in place and picked up the extra homework Sam had given her. She muttered a few words under her breath.

"I don't want to hear it- you deserve that," Sam said sternly. She just continued working for the first part of the drive, when she suddenly stopped.

"Hey Dad- when we stop at the next gas station, can I borrow your phone to call Bobby? It's been a couple hours since I called."

"Absolutely you can."


	32. Not While I'm Around

**Hello gorgeous SPN Family! Happy Friday!**

 **This is a request by the wonderful SamA18. She asked for a story about Natalie getting scared during a thunderstorm. I hope you like it my dear! As always, I love hearing your requests- and I will write them all (as long as they're true to character!)**

 **Love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love. I love you all. Special hugs to Jenmm31!**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is 2. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

Gray mist clung to the scratched window. The plinking sound of the rain on the roof echoed the smack of the drops on the glass. It was chilly near the window, but the just-turned-two year old with her nose pressed up against the glass didn't seem to mind. Both of her tiny hands were spread against the cold glass in an effort to keep herself connected to the rain. From the outside, her nose appeared to be smashed against her face as she breathlessly watched the raindrops fall.

"Going on a solid thirty minutes now," Sam remarked casually, looking at the clock on his open laptop. Dean just snickered, taking another swig from his beer. The rain had started falling, and not long after, Natalie had been engrossed in watching it.

"I guess it makes sense. She was born in Seattle. The rain probably feels like home to her," Dean said, watching his fascinated daughter. She was right at that stage where she was really starting to discover the world around her. Dean found himself stunned at the feelings he felt, watching her encounter new things. He had been so focused for so long on the supernatural world, that he had often forgotten or even discarded the natural world. Watching it for the first time through his daughter's eyes was captivating. Not to mention, her reactions was priceless.

The first time she "discovered" grass was a personal favorite of his. They had just come off of a sixteen hour drive. In an effort to get her down for a nap, Dean had taken Natalie outside behind the motel they had pulled into, and set her loose. Normally, she would have just run around and laughed until her legs were tired, but for some reason, that day, she happened to look down. Her little mouth had gaped in wonder at the green blades underneath her feet. She kept picking up her feet, one by one, and examining the grass underneath them. When she put one foot down to look at what was under the other one, she would get frustrated that the grass she had been looking at disappeared under her feet. She had stomped around, getting more and more frustrated, even growling at the grass, until she had tripped on a hole in the ground, falling face forward. Dean had momentarily panicked, and was running towards her, when she looked down and realized that the grass she was so desperate to look at was now even closer and- even better- no longer in danger of being squished by her foot. Dean got to her just in time to hear her give a little satisfied squeak, and then start meticulously examining the grass, sprawled out on the ground on her belly. She would grab handfuls of it and drag herself along the field to look at new patches. She picked up individual pieces and clumps. She tried to put it in her mouth, but Dean quickly put a stop to that. When she finally seemed to wear out, Dean picked her up and took her back inside. Sam was less than pleased that she was covered in grass stains and dirt, but after a quick bath and change of clothes, she went right down for a nap, no fussing. Dean totally called that day a "win", grass stains be damned.

Today, apparently, the fascination was rain. Once she heard the rain start up, her little head whipped around towards the window. She pushed herself off of Sam's lap where she had been sitting, and toddled over to the glass. She had given a little gasp of delight at the water running down the window. She pressed her nose and hands to the window, trying to figure out what it was all about, and hadn't moved since.

"Hell, if this rain keeps up, we won't need a babysitter on this case. She'll just stay by the window until we're back," Sam joked, looking at his niece again. Dean smiled and nodded in response. "Speaking of which, do you think Amy would watch her?" Sam asked, referring to the cop they had been working with on their current case.

"In a heartbeat," Dean said. "You think we'll find what we're looking for tonight?"

Sam shook his head, frustrated. "Doubtful. This vampire nest has been in this town for over a century. I don't think a couple Google searches are gonna crack this case today."

"Well, it's a good thing you have no life then. Keep searching."

Sam just rolled his eyes and got up to get another beer. On his way past his niece, he stopped, reached down, and stroked her hair once. She didn't move; she was too busy. New raindrops were falling all the time. She wanted to see them all. Sam looked up and out the window himself. A sudden gush of wind sent a cluster of leaves skating across the parking lot.

"Hm. Looks like it's getting worse out there," he remarked, looking up at the darkening clouds. He looked back down. Natalie now had her cheek smashed against the glass, watching the skittering wet leaves as they plastered themselves to cars, parking curbs, and the motel wall. He was worried that she was going to get cold so close to the window. Sam reached down and tried to pull her hands gently away to see if they were chilly, but she shrieked in protest and tried to wrestle her hands away from his grip.

"She's fine, Sam. Let her be," her father said.

"Dean, she might catch cold," Sam said matter-of-factly.

"She's a Winchester. We don't get sick. Quit being such a mother hen." Sam sighed in defeat and let Natalie's hands go. She immediately plastered them back to the window, continuing her rain stakeout. He strode to the fridge and pulled out another bottle.

"You need another?" he asked his brother. In response, Dean picked up his own bottle and chugged for a good solid ten seconds. He put the bottle down on the table, and let out an almighty belch.

"Yes."

Sam came back to the table, plunking the two bottles down. It was silent in the room again for a while after that, other than the click of the keyboards, the rushing wind, and the relentless patter of rain. Fifteen minutes later, Dean leaned back to stretch, then rubbed his hands on the back of his head. His gaze wandered over to his daughter again. She still hadn't moved, but all the glass around her mouth was fogged up. He hated himself a little for thinking this- as unmacho as it could be- but...it was kinda cute.

All of the sudden, a huge flash of light lit up the window. Natalie jumped back from the glass- she hadn't been expecting that. She breathed hard, twice, then took a tentative step back towards the window. Just then, the thunder crashed. She stumbled backwards with a frightened squeak, but didn't fall. She turned to Dean, terror in her eyes.

"That's just thunder and lightning," Dean said in a gentle voice, trying to calm her. "Nothin' to be scared of, squirt." She turned her face towards the window again, her beloved rain suddenly feeling sinister to her. She put her little hand up to the window again. Unfortunately, that was the exact moment another roll of thunder crashed. She yanked her hand away from the window like it was suddenly a burning stove, but she didn't move. "Hey- you okay?" Dean called out to her, concerned now. She didn't acknowledge that she heard him. She was still staring at the blackening sky, trying to figure it all out, when the lightning struck again. This time, the thunder clap came almost simultaneously with it. Natalie gasped and backed away from the window, terrified. She turned and bolted straight for Dean.

"Daddyyyyyyy!" she hollered as she ran. She slammed full force into his bent legs, falling to the ground. She wrapped her arms around Dean's left calf, and buried her face in his jeans.

"Hey, hey now," he said, trying not to laugh outright at her. He reached down and tried to pull her off his leg, but for a just-turned-two year old, she was strong. He swung around in his seat, picking his leg up as she continued to clutch it in a death grip. He put his hands under her arms to try to pry her off. She just gripped him tighter, but once she realized he was trying to pick her up, she dropped her hands instantly and reached up, her little fists opening and closing as she whimpered in fear. Dean pulled her in to his chest. She immediately grabbed the front of his flannel with both hands and tried to hide her face in it. Dean tried to suck his lips into his mouth in an effort to not laugh at her, but she was so damned cute. He just wrapped his arms around her, cuddling her close.

"Hey now, kiddo, it's okay. You're fine," he said, patting her back gently. She pulled the flannel around her face tighter, as if that would block out the thunder and lightning. Dean couldn't help but give a low chuckle.

"Is she okay?" Sam asked, concerned. He craned his neck, trying to get a look at Natalie's face, but she had turned it completely into Dean's chest. Dean nodded.

"She'll be fine, just a little freaked out, that's all," he said soothingly, not wanting to startle her further. Another clap of lightning and thunder, and she let out a terrified wail. Dean held her tighter.

"It's okay, Baby Girl, it's okay," he whispered gently, rubbing her back as she cried. His laughter turned to an aching heart as he felt the fear rolling off of her. He held her up again so she would look at him, but she wouldn't let go of his shirt. He pulled her in, putting his hand on the back of her head and pulling it down to his shoulder. She responded by dropping his shirt and wrapping her arms around his neck. Dean kept one hand on the back of her head and the other firmly holding her in place as he stood up. He stood up and walked towards the other end of the room, away from the window. "Shhhh," he whispered into her ear, bouncing her up and down like he did when he was trying to get her to sleep. She continued to whimper and shake with terror, especially when a new wave of thunder struck. She cried out as the thunderclap scared her again, and Dean suddenly felt helpless. He needed to calm her down, to soothe her, but he didn't know how. He kept bouncing her, and she would grow quiet again, only to have the cycle repeat at the next lightning strike.

"Can I help?" Sam asked, anxious, seeing that Natalie was still freaking out.

"I don't know, Sammy. I've never seen her this freaked before," Dean said in an anguished voice. He started humming Metallica songs into her ear (well, it helped HIM calm down) and stroking her head. His heart leapt when she relaxed, but the second the bright light shot through the room again, she tensed up all over again. Sam crossed to the windows and tried to shut the curtains to block the light out, but Natalie could still see the flash of lightning through the slit, and nothing could block out the thunder. She cowered in Dean's arms, holding on to him for dear life.

Dean pressed his lips to the top of her head, and left them there. He could feel her slowly start to relax again. And this time, when the thunder struck, she didn't get tense. Dean felt a jab of relief and hope at this breakthrough.

"Hey," he whispered to her. "It's okay, Baby Girl. Daddy's got you. Nothing's gonna get you, not while I'm around. I got you, kiddo." Natalie's whimpering stopped. She actually picked up her head and looked Dean right in the eye. His heart cracked in two when he saw the tear tracks on her face. She tried to brush them away, but was so agitated that her motor skills were affected; her tiny hands were still shaking. Dean brushed the tears off her cheeks, knowing how much she hated the feeling of them on her face. She took another gulping breath, and looked at him, scared and miserable, not understanding what the crashing and the bright light was all about.

"It's okay, kiddo," Dean said, rubbing her back again gently. "It's just thunder and lightning. Nothin' to be scared of. It can't hurt you, okay? You got that? It can't hurt you." Just then, the power in the room flicked once, twice, and then died. "Aw, crap," Dean growled as Natalie tensed up. But she didn't start to cry or try to bury her face in his shirt again. Dean watched as her little face whipped around the room, wondering where the light went. She spotted Sam, who had just gotten up from the table to go get their flashlights. She pointed imperiously in Sam's direction.

"Saht," she declared. Dean's forehead wrinkled. He didn't know what she was trying to say. He had never heard her say that word before.

"What did you say?" he asked, feeling foolish. Sam turned around as well upon hearing her utterance. She looked at Dean again, but pointed in Sam's direction.

"Saht!" she declared, louder. The brothers exchanged a look, neither of them able to interpret her words.

"What is she saying?" Sam asked.

"Do you think she's trying to say 'Sam'?" Dean questioned.

"No, she knows how to say my name."

"Saht!"

"What is it, kiddo? What is it you want?" Dean asked her, feeling worthless that he couldn't understand his own daughter. Sam continued digging through the duffel, coming up with the flashlights. His hand hit another container as he was withdrawing the flashlights from the bag. He let out a surprised utterance.

"What?" Dean asked, not really wanting to deal with a Sam freak-out at the moment.

"Dean- I think she's trying to say 'salt'," Sam said, standing up with the container of salt in his hand. He walked over towards them, the salt clearly visible. "Natalie- is this what you want? Salt?" he asked gently. She nodded vigorously, and pointed firmly to the canister again. "Saht!" she declared loudly. Sam's eyes got as wide as they possibly could as he made the connection.

"Dean. The lights went out. And she wanted the salt."

As the realization of what just happened hit him, Dean turned his face towards the child in his arms, his jaw dropping open. His two year old had made the connection that when the lights went out unexpectedly, it was time to grab the salt.

"Dean- how the HELL did she know that?" Sam asked, breathless.

"Like I know?!" he said. Natalie jumped a bit at the loud exclamation. He immediately felt like crap, scaring her all over again. He patted her on the back, then rubbed his knuckles gently along her cheek. "Hey, sorry, Baby Girl, shhh, shh, I'm sorry, Daddy's sorry," he murmured low, trying to calm her again. His touch acted like a muscle relaxer, and she sagged back into his shoulder. He turned away from Sam and began walking in circles again. He turned to say something to Sam, but his words were cut short in surprise. Sam had crossed to the door of the motel, opened the salt container, and was pouring a line right at the door. Sam stopped, embarrassed, when he saw his brother staring at him.

"What?" he mumbled defensively. "We would've done it eventually anyways. Not to mention if it'll help her calm down, I'll do it," he declared, almost defiantly. Dean just rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, well, there's going to be enough to be scared of in this life. I don't want her to be scared of this." Dean kissed Natalie's forehead again, causing her to look up. "Hey, kiddo, listen to me," he said, not sure if the two year old would be able to follow. But she appeared to be listening. "I've got you, okay? You're safe with me," he said, and began slowing walking towards the window. As he approached it, Natalie began to quietly whimper. She tightened her grip on Dean's neck, but he didn't stop moving. He did lean down and whisper in her ear again, "I've got you. Nothing's gonna get you. You're okay, you're okay." As his words hit her ear, he felt her relax slightly, despite their movement towards the window. Dean stopped at the part in the curtain.

"It's okay. It's okay, Natalie," he said gently. "Look- wanna see?" He slowly pulled the curtain back. She gulped hard, but didn't tense up. Dean looked down quickly, checking to see how this was all going over. "See? You're okay. Daddy's got you. Nothing's gonna get you, not some stupid thunder and lightning. Not while I'm around." He was worried, but he knew he had to help her fight this fear and face it. He put his hand up to the window, just like she had been doing up till the point of getting scared.

"Daddy! No!" she whined, gripping him tight around the neck. He kept his hand on the window, and turned his face towards her.

"See, Natalie? Nothin' to be scared of," he said calmly. Her green eyes got wide in wonder, and she turned to look at his hand on the window. Just then, lightning and thunder struck again. She shrieked a bit, then looked quickly back and forth from Dean's hand to his face, searching for any kind of distress. He smiled at her.

"There you go, kiddo. I'm fine. You wanna try?" he said, hoping that she would reach her hand out to the window. His heart sank when she shook her head violently, but then she turned to look out the window again. This time, when the lightning struck, she barely flinched. Dean watched her tilt her head to the side as she studied what she was seeing. Another clap of thunder rolled, making her slightly jump, but then she gritted her teeth. She leaned forward at the window, bared her teeth, and growled.

"Yeah! That's my girl! You show that thunder that you're not scared of it!" Dean said, excited. She, in turn, growled louder, pleased at his encouragement. Dean barked a laugh, which made her giggle. Nothing in the world sounded sweeter to Dean at that moment than that little laugh. He bounced her a bit more, but stilled as she tentatively reached out towards the window again. She got her hand about three inches from the glass, then turned her worried gaze to Dean again. He grinned at her, and leaned in towards her, touching his forehead to hers.

"I'm right here," he whispered. She turned her face back towards the window, and thrust her hand out the rest of the way, touching the glass. When the lightning and thunder came, Dean felt her tense up, but she didn't move her hand. He was so proud of her, facing her fear, that he couldn't speak. His throat closed up as tears threatened to fall. With a manly sniff, he sucked them back in, but continued to watch his little girl be brave. After another moment, she withdrew her hand from the glass, and turned to him, giving him a thousand watt smile. He leaned in again, touching his forehead to hers as he cuddled her.

"Daddy's really proud of you for being so brave. But you don't ever have to worry about being safe. I will always keep you safe. Nothing's ever gonna get to you. Not while I'm around."


	33. Dad's Prerequisite

**Heeeeeeey Gorgeous SPN Family! Yes! I'm talking to YOU! How are you? You look great today! :)**

 **This story was a request from angieggjb. She asked for Dean to teach Natalie something, so here you go!**

 **I love hearing from you fabulous people- thank you to all those who have taken time to read and review. It brightens my world. I try to respond to all of them, and if I missed one, please accept my sincerest apologies. To all my guest reviewers to whom I can't respond to- I have all of your requests as well. I will write each and every request as long as it's true to Natalie's character. I** **adore you all, please know that.**

 **Speaking of people I adore- Jenmm31- y'all, she's the best ever. She's been an amazing muse and beta for me, as well as a kick ass friend. Go show her some love by checking out her stories- you will love them. She's brilliant.**

 **Love you people!**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is 13. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

It was a typical June day- a Wednesday, to be precise. A gentle summer breeze danced through the lofty foliage of the giant redwoods, but only provided a moment of coolness in the otherwise warm day to the two Winchesters standing underneath its elevated shade. They were in Crescent City, California- home of the Redwood National Park. Sam and Dean were tracking an Arachne who had already succeeded in trapping and killing three campers. Since Natalie had just turned thirteen back in April, they had let her tag along on this hunt, but at a distance. She didn't protest much about not being hands on- she was so excited to be in the field period, playing with the big boys, that she had followed Dean's instructions to the letter- observing, tracking, and even initially identifying the spider-like creature.

In the meantime, the boys had taken advantage of the landscape to further Natalie's education as well. She and Sam were currently studying Botany, both on a natural and supernatural level. The Redwoods were glorious, and they were enjoying forays into the forest together, studying all the plant life in the area. As much as she was enjoying the lessons with Sam however, when it came time for Dean's lessons, that was truly her favorite part of the day. Dean had recently been teaching her to fight more with her fists than the weapons. Since she was getting older, he was slowly starting to accept that she would be in the field full time very soon, and had finally started training her in hand to hand combat. She knew how to use just about every single weapon in their arsenal, so he really couldn't delay it much longer. She had been taught basics from day one, just in case, but for Dean to really start teaching her in one on one combat meant he had to think about her locked in a fight with a supernatural creature up close, which made him feel like his guts were turning inside out. After much hemming and hawing, he had finally gritted his teeth, bucked up, and started really getting into the martial arts with her, knowing that it was better to do this sooner rather than later.

Natalie loved every second of the training. She knew that this step was one step closer to getting into the field, which thrilled her to no end. She loved thinking on her feet, assessing her next move right in the moment, and the knowledge that came with it all. Besides, the Redwoods were what George Lucas used to model the Forest Moon of Endor, so every time Dean took her into the forest to practice, she felt like a freaking Jedi. Today, they were warming up with the basics. She was standing about three feet apart from Dean, her arms raised in a classic blocking guard position. Her bright green tee shirt was dotted with patches of sweat, as the heat began to rise in the forest. They were both wearing workout clothing- Dean had even donned shorts owing to the temperature. Natalie had pulled her long black hair back into a ponytail, and the heat of the day was making it stick to the back of her neck. She tried to ignore the uncomfortable feeling as she watched Dean, waiting for his attack.

He stepped suddenly to his left, and she countered quickly. "Good," he muttered, before darting to his left again. She once again matched his footing, countering him to keep herself at the optimum striking distance. "Alright," he said, looking down on her. She was still incredibly short for being thirteen, only just barely being five feet tall. Dean found himself once again wondering why she hadn't inherited his height- just his incredibly good looks. "Block what I'm about to throw at you. Ready?"

"Born ready," she said, her blood racing in excitement, her feet dancing back and forth a bit in anticipation. Whereas it was cute watching her prance, it also caused her to lose the power in her blocking stance. Dean pinched his lips at her.

"Focus, Natalie," he said firmly. She could get overexcited easily and let the adrenaline of the fight carry her away, instead of staying in the moment. That was the greatest challenge he had in working with her. She was a fantastic student- bright, quick, and always wanting- usually demanding- to know more. But her exuberance could and often did stand in her way. Dean found himself telling her to focus several times in their lessons. She would always shake herself a bit, and he would see the determination replace the delight in her eyes. Dean knew firsthand how easy it was to get caught up or distracted on a hunt- he was terrified that her enthusiasm would bring her to harm, so he was vigilant and incredibly strict with her when it came to her ability to focus.

At hearing the familiar rebuke, Natalie inhaled deeply. Dean saw the shift in her focus as she obeyed, and he knew she was ready now. Without warning, he threw a right hook at her. She brought her left arm up to block the punch, and delivered a fake blow to his stomach. They never actually threw punches to hit when they were training- they just pulled them. The purpose of their sparring sessions wasn't about actually knocking the stuffing out of each other. It was about the technique. Knocking the stuffing out of each other came later.

"Nice, kid," Dean said, stepping back and adopting the fighting stance again. "This time, pick a different target." Natalie nodded once to show she understood, making her long ponytail swing. Dean threw the right hook again, and she deftly blocked it with her left, but instead of a punch to the stomach, she gave him an uppercut to the chin.

"Excellent. In your case, you were right to go for the stomach first. You're probably going to have a hard time landing a solid uppercut on the chin, unless you're fighting a Smurf," he teased, making her smirk right back at his joke. "Alright. Again." This time, Dean threw a left hook at her. She wasn't expecting it and wasn't able to bring her guard up in time, so she ducked under his fist and planted her own right hook into the lower part of his back.

"Almost. You almost got the kidney," Dean said, grabbing her wrist and guiding it towards his back. "Think more towards the spine, right- there." He tapped her fist against his back, showing her where the kidney was located. He then brought her hand back around to the front quickly to look at it. She realized a split second too late what was wrong. Dean pinched his lips together disapprovingly upon seeing her thumb tucked into her fist. He smacked her tucked-in thumb with his hand and dropped her wrist. "I told you to focus," he scolded.

Natalie ground her back teeth together. She hated making mistakes, especially when Dean called her out on them. "Yes, sir," she said in a low voice. "Sorry."

"Why don't you tuck your thumb in when you throw a punch?" he asked persistently, knowing that she already knew the answer.

"Because you can break your thumb if it's tucked into your fist," she answered immediately, angry at herself for failing. "Won't happen again, Dad." She readjusted her stance, making sure her thumbs were pressed up against her knuckles, like she knew they should be. She pressed her lips together in anger. Dean knew she was internally raking herself over the coals for her mistake, so he didn't say anything else about it. Instead, he threw the left hook again. Without missing a beat, she dodged the blow, planting her right hook right into his kidney.

"Much better," he said, hoping that she'd stop mentally punishing herself over her mistake with her thumbs. She just straightened up and nodded. Dean knew that was about the best response he'd get out of her right now. He threw a couple more punches, changing them up and making her dodge and block. Every punch he threw, she countered perfectly, alternating her own counter strikes based off of his initial attacks. He suddenly threw a one-two punch at her, but she reacted so well it was like she was expecting it. She leaned and swerved, then turned into him suddenly with an elbow to the ribs, and a back fist that would have broken his nose if it had had any weight behind it. Dean took advantage of the fist near his face and grabbed her wrist once again. He checked her thumbs, and they were in the proper position. He released her, grinning.

"That's my girl," he said proudly. Natalie was thrilled at his praise, but ducked her head, not wanting to show her smile. That made Dean's heart ache, just a bit. Ever since her encounter with the Candy Man back in Utah, she was hesitant to show her smile, since it was what had gotten her captured in the first place. Dean and Sam had had several at length discussions with each other while she was sleeping, both of them worried that her encounter was taking a larger psychological toll on her than she was letting on. However when they talked to her about it, other than not wanting to smile, she assured them she was fine. And she truly seemed to be. She never really realized how close Sam and Dean watched her for months after the attack. She really was fine, but Dean longed for the day when he would see her smile for real again.

Dean stepped back, indicating to her that they were done with this part of the training. "Get your water- stay hydrated," he ordered. She immediately went to retrieve the water bottles they left under a nearby tree. She twisted her own open, and as she was drinking, she walked back, holding his bottle out to him. He just brushed her off with a scoff. She lowered her own bottle from her lips, and gave him a resounding bitch face. _Damn Sam for teaching her that,_ Dean thought wryly.

"You need to hydrate, too," she said, scolding him right back. With a shake of his head, he snatched the water bottle out of her hands. Just as he was about to lift the bottle to his lips, he turned and stuck his tongue out at her. She was in the middle of taking another drink, and the immature gesture made her laugh, spitting her water out down her chin. He bobbed his eyebrows and grinned.

"Ha, ha, made you laugh," he playfully mocked before taking a swig of water. She wiped her chin with the back of her hand, giving him her own lopsided grin.

"I thought I was supposed to be the immature one around here," she joked, twisting her cap back on.

"Oh, no. You've always been more mature than me," Dean said off handedly. "That's never gonna change."

"Fair enough," she said, a ghost of a grin dancing across her face. Dean handed her his bottle back, and she trotted back over to the tree, depositing them in the shade.

"You up for something new?" Dean asked as she walked back towards him. The sparkle in her eye upon hearing that she would be learning a new skill was enough of a yes for him. "Alright. I'm going to teach you how to throw your opponent." He saw the flash of excitement on her face, but she quickly reined it in, determined not to make him have to tell her to focus again. "The trick is to make your attacker use his own momentum against him," Dean instructed. Natalie nodded once to show she understood. "When they throw a punch-" he demonstrated with his right hand, "-their weight is already going in the direction their fist is. What you're going to want to do is channel that."

"Okay. How do I do that?" she asked, looking more than up for the challenge.

"Like this," he said. "Throw a right punch at me." She did. Dean blocked her with his left arm, but turned into her, grabbing her right wrist with his left, and planting his right arm under her bicep. He leaned over, which forced her body onto his hip and back. Natalie felt herself hoisted into the air. Had he been going at full speed, he would have flipped her right over his shoulder and onto the forest floor. However, since they were going in slow motion, and he wasn't using his strength or her momentum, she just remained on his bent back. "You see?" he asked, looking over his shoulder.

"I think so," she said. Dean gently lowered her, making sure not to strain her arm as her feet hit the pine needle-covered ground. "Can you do it slowly one more time please?" she asked. Dean obliged, and after throwing another fake punch, Natalie found herself dangling in the air on his back again.

"Alright. You ready to try?" he asked, looking her square in the eye.

"Let's do it," she said.

"Slow motion."

"I think I can do it."

"Slow. Motion."

"Yes, Sir."

Dean threw a right punch at her. Natalie blocked it, and then turned into him. She got her hands in the right place, but when she bent to essentially "hoist" him, the placement of her feet prevented her from using her hip properly as the point where she needed to make the contact to toss him. Dean looked at her patronizingly.

"Now aren't you glad I made you go in slow motion?" he said. She just rolled her eyes and tried to hide her grin. He chuckled. "Alright. Here. We're going to break it down." He took it slow, showing her exactly how to step into him; where to put her feet for the best leverage to plant the attacker on her hip. He made her do the maneuver five times in slow motion before letting her try it at normal speed. When she did it, she was actually able to pick him up for about two seconds before having to drop him back to the ground on his feet. When he was no longer airborne, he looked at her directly.

"Did that hurt at all?" he asked bluntly. Upon hearing that tone, Natalie knew he meant business and she better answer truthfully.

"Not until I was holding you on my back," she answered. To her delight, Dean nodded his approval.

"Good. You were using my momentum, then. If you'd carried through, you would have flipped me with no damage to yourself at all. Great job, kid," he said, pulling on her long ponytail. She just scoffed and smoothed her hair back, her grin twisting off to the side at hearing that she'd done it correctly. "Alright. You ready to do this thing, for real now?" he asked, gauging her reaction carefully. She shrugged in her cocky way, looking exactly like him.

"Question is- are you?" she said tauntingly. Dean just chuckled and put his fists up. She immediately dropped her cavalier attitude and did the same. A flash of pride shot through Dean as he watched his baby girl focus and prepare. Without warning, he stepped forward, closing the distance between the two of them quickly, with a punch aimed straight at her face. He pulled the punch slightly so if he accidentally did make contact, it wouldn't hurt her terribly. However, she was too quick for that. She blocked with her left and darted away. Good. She was assessing for herself the severity of the attack without tiring herself out on the first punch. When he came at her again quickly, he watched as she realized he was simulating a persistent attacker with a base knowledge of street fighting. That was when she began going for the pain points. Shots to the nose, floating ribs, groin, and kidneys were thrown between the both of them. He suddenly stepped towards her with a strong right hook, and without a moment's hesitation, she turned into him, latched onto his arm, and threw him right over her right shoulder onto the hard, crunchy surface of the forest floor. The sudden impact with the ground knocked the wind out of his lungs, and he gasped for a second, surprised as all hell that she had actually managed to heave his gigantic form over her tiny one.

"Oh my god, Dad! I'm so sorry!" she gasped, kneeling right down next to him. "Shit! I was caught up in the moment. I was so stupid, I'm sorry," she babbled. He could see the fear in her eyes, and he knew he only had a second before it turned into self-loathing. He started chuckling. Her face briefly registered surprise before becoming relieved at realizing that he was okay. She gave a small laugh herself, still eyeing him speculatively, waiting for him to start talking.

"That was great, squirt," he said breathlessly, not quite recovered enough yet to take a deep breath. He sat up carefully. Natalie quickly grabbed his shoulders to try to help steady him, but he was fine, not really needing any help. He shook his arms a bit, and then brushed the dirt off his triceps. Natalie immediately starting brushing the pine needles off his back as he continued to chuckle. "You did it perfectly. I'd hate to see the asshole who'd mess with you," he said, the pride ringing in his voice.

"Yeah, like anyone's ever gonna get through you first," she said back with a genuine grin. Dean's heart stopped for a moment, but her grin quickly twisted off to the side. He felt a fleeting stab of disappointment, but pride in her fine work soon took its place.

"Damn straight," he said, glad that she reaffirmed that she knew what was what. Anyone who wanted to get to the Baby Girl had to go through the Papa Bear first. "Well, as much as I hate to admit this- it's official."

"What's official?" Natalie asked, not having a clue what he meant. He smirked at her.

"You're ready to date."

"I'm...what?"

"You heard me."

"I threw you on the forest floor, and because of that, I'm ready to date?"

"Yup."

"I don't follow."

"I told myself that I wasn't going to let you date until you could take down a man the size of me. Now that you've done it, you've passed the first test."

That made her laugh out loud. The sound rang off the trees, bouncing all around the glen. She sat back, pulling her knees into her chest. Once she stopped giggling, she asked. "So what's the other test?"

"Age test."

"What does that mean?"

"Well- you're not getting married till you're thirty five." Natalie rolled her eyes, but before she could retort, Dean spoke up again. "And you're not really allowed to date until you're thirty six." That made her laugh out again, and this time he joined her. When they both stopped laughing, he jumped up, fully recovered, and offered her a hand. She took it, and he pulled her to her feet. After a few more sparring rounds, he declared that they were done for the day. They collected their water bottles and started to make their way back towards the parking lot where the Impala was waiting.

In between sips of water, Natalie looked up at him. "Dad? Are you going to wig out for real when I start dating?" Dean cocked one eyebrow at her playfully, which earned him a shrug. "I mean, I just want to know how much sneaking around behind your back I'm going to have to do so you're not waiting at the door with a shot gun," she teased. Dean snorted a laugh.

"Don't worry. I won't go nuts."

"THANK you."

"Besides, I've still got a good twenty years before that's going to happen. I'm bound to be just a little slower then than I am now. Maybe."

"Daaaaaaaaaad."


	34. It's Where My Demons Hide

**Hiiiiiiiiii SPN Family! I hope you're all having a beautiful day, because you deserve it.**

 **This story is a bit of a combined request- I've had a couple questions about Natalie's mom, and some requests for some more angst-ridden stuff, so here you go. If I haven't gotten to your request yet, please keep the faith- I promise I will! Keep the requests coming- I love hearing from you.**

 **Special thanks and a big hug to all of you. I mean it. You guys help keep me going. Extra special hugs to my Sammy. :)**

 **Please read, review, and enjoy!**

 **A/N- In this story, Natalie is 10. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

"Why can't I come?"

Dean rolled his eyes for the thousandth time that day. And for the thousandth time, he gave the same answer. "This one is too dangerous. This demon keeps jumping from meat suit to meat suit, and I'm not going to let you within 100 yards of this thing."

"But if I draw an anti-possession symbol on my arm, then-"

"No."

Natalie crossed her arms in frustration, but tried to keep the whiny-ness out of her voice. She knew it wouldn't do her any favors while trying to convince Dean to let her go with him and Sam. "I know the exorcism by heart! I don't have to get that close to it!" Dean just ignored her and concentrated on refilling his flask with holy water.

She wanted to stomp her foot and start yelling, but she knew better. She knew that was a sure-fire way to get left out of the hunt, and get her in a lot of trouble. Lately, Dean seemed to be clamping down on anything and everything she wanted to do. They still took her out on the road with them, and they were still training her to be a hunter- coaching her on Latin, weaponry, and supernatural knowledge- but that was about the extent of it. Very rarely did they take her out into the field, and when they did, it was only on fact-finding missions; never on the crime scene, and never EVER to gank the monsters. They would come back and present her with the facts, and it was her job to do research and figure out what they were up against. She was getting to be an expert on lore- she had leafed through and read their lore books so many times, she was getting to be a tiny walking Dewey decimal system of the supernatural. She knew John's journal forwards and backwards, often able to correct them or add to their thoughts when they were discussing their cases.

She was a genius at the computer too, making any search engine yield results for her with a flurry of her fingers. But even that was hampered, seeing as she was only allowed on their laptops under their supervision. She always needed their permission before getting online for two simple reasons. Sam didn't want her digging into supernatural research that she wasn't ready for, and Dean didn't want her stumbling onto his browser history.

She didn't know it, but Sam was incredibly aware of how good she was at finding what she needed on the internet. He would watch her figure out something in twenty minutes that would take him an hour, or take Dean three. He didn't know where she was getting it from. It was almost like she just knew naturally what to type, and the computer would yield whatever results she wanted. Sam had tried to talk to Dean about it a few times, but Dean just brushed it off. Natalie was a good kid- she wouldn't do anything on the computer that she wasn't supposed to. However, Dean wasn't used to her pressing back on certain issues either, which seemed to be happening more and more frequently.

This case, for example. It was about an hour away from Bobby's hometown of Sioux Falls, South Dakota. They were back home, staying with Bobby in the closest thing Natalie ever had to a home, trying to take care of little things that the older man didn't quite have the stamina to take care of anymore, all while hunting down this demon. Since Castiel had healed Bobby, he was still able to get up and around, but things like repairing gutters and cleaning had taken a back seat recently.

Natalie found herself stuck with more chores than usual on this trip. She would do them without complaint, but Dean noticed her curiosity had ramped up, having all this free time to think about anything and everything. She was constantly asking questions- everything from hunting to history to home repair. Dean remembered with a shudder the time she asked about her mother. He had tried to shut that one down quickly, but she wasn't having it. Apparently, she had given it a good deal of thought, and decided that she wanted to know. She had kept pestering Dean about her, and even though he had flat out refused to talk about his ex, that hadn't deterred his daughter. He had tried giving her The Eye, which usually kept her at bay. Not this time. She kept pushing and pushing until finally, strictly out of anger, he sent her to her room, forbidding her from ever asking about her mother again. She had listened to him when he did that, and hadn't said a word about it since. Dean felt horrible playing his "Because I Said So" card on that one, but he didn't want Natalie to know about her mother. He wasn't ready for that heartbreak yet- for himself or for her.

She had channeled her questions into this case instead. She actually had been the one to link all the bizarre, random crimes in the area to this demon. Both Sam and Dean had been impressed with how wide she was able to spread her digital net and draw this all in. However, with this particular circumstance, the demon was fond of jumping from person to person, leaving death and very confused police officers in its wake. Natalie knew all of this, and yet, she still was pushing to go with them.

"How am I going to get good at exorcising demons if you never let me practice?" she said matter of factly.

"You've done it before."

"Yeah, with the demon being in a devil's trap, you and Uncle Sam in between us, and me standing in a puddle of holy water," she quipped, putting her hands on her hips.

"Ya still got to do it, didn't you?"

"Dad!"

Dean finally looked up at her. "Natalie, enough. You're not going- end of discussion." He wasn't sure if she was going to keep pushing, but he had laid down his infamous last line. Even Sam didn't cross that one. Usually. Dean watched as her shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of her.

"Yes, sir," she mumbled. She turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Dean feeling like a schmuck. He shook it off, and got back down to the task at hand. He would have loved to have said yes- to have taken her with them. She loved being able to help, and she seemed like she was a born hunter. However, the fact remained that she was still only ten. This demon that they were up against seemed to take a sadistic pleasure in leaping from human to human, possessing people at random, and without her having the anti-possession tattoo, it was still too dangerous. She was too much like her father at that age- gung-ho for a fight against the supernatural. Even John hadn't let Dean do that much hunting at age ten, although Dean had already made his first kill by then. He wanted to keep Natalie away from that moment for as long as he could. It was rough enough dealing with the idea that he was watching her walk down the hunter's path. He just couldn't handle all the other emotional baggage that came with it. Not right now. He cleared his throat in the silence, and focused on refilling the flask.

Natalie shuffled away, her head down. She knew it had always been a long shot, but since Dean hadn't flat-out said no the first time she asked to go on the hunt, she was hoping she would have been able to wear him down. Sure, it was dangerous, but what creature were they ever going to fight against that wasn't dangerous? She pushed the front door open, and trudged down the steps. She saw Sam's silhouette in the moonlight, loading the trunk of the Impala with their vast array of weaponry. She walked over to him, feeling a bit of relief. Uncle Sam didn't mind her questions. In fact, he liked them. He had welcomed her helpful research on this case while keeping an eye on her internet skills. She knew there was no chance of him getting Dean to overturn his verdict, but his shut-down reminded her of other questions she had tried to ask her father. She wondered if Sam would answer them instead. Dean had said she wasn't allowed to ask HIM about it again- he hadn't said anything about Sam.

She sidled up next to Sam now, who glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. "Hey Bug," he said casually, using her affectionate nickname. She just sighed heavily. Sam tried to smother the grin that was threatening to creep onto his face. He knew that sigh all too well. He chalked it up towards heading into her teenage years. "So what's up?" he asked, pushing the fake trunk lid down, effectively concealing the weapons. He turned to her, ready to hear whatever drama it was this time.

"Uncle Sam..." Natalie began, and then hesitated. She wasn't sure exactly how to begin this conversation. Sam's brow furrowed. Normally, this kid wasn't at a loss for words, so he wasn't quite sure what he was about to walk into. He didn't say anything, though. He just waited for her to pull herself together and try again. She finally looked up, her green eyes piercing his hazel ones.

"Did you know my mom?" she asked quietly. Sam felt his insides turn to solid lead. He had barely known Natalie's mother, only having been around her three times- when they met her originally, when they have solved her case and rescued her, and when they had come back to Seattle to find her pregnant with Natalie. Dean had clammed up about her. Sam knew it was still a source of pain for his brother, so he never pushed, knowing that if Dean ever really needed to talk about the situation, he would. It was like when Dean had come back from Hell. When he had been ready to talk, he did. And when he was ready to talk about Natalie's mother, he would. Until then, Sam knew he would get nowhere pushing. But he had never really factored Natalie into the equation before.

Sam coughed awkwardly for a moment, and then swallowed before answering. "What makes you ask about...her? Now?" he said cautiously, his eyes darting to the house. He knew Dean had forbidden Natalie from asking about her mother, but he also knew his niece was a stubborn little goat when it came to getting what she wanted. Dean wasn't going to be happy that she was trying to get information about a forbidden subject, but he couldn't help but feel a stab of sympathy for her.

When they were growing up, Dean hadn't talked much about their mom, but he had told Sam what he knew. Sam remembered having to push and pester Dean a bit for the information- he was still a little brother after all- but Dean had eventually relented and told Sam what he remembered. Sam remembered wanting to know as much as he could about her until he finally gave up, realizing that he had gotten all he was ever going to get out of Dean. He realized that Natalie may feel the same way. He also knew the frustration of trying to get information out of his brother. His heart ached for his niece.

Natalie shrugged as if in response to his thoughts. "I don't know why I want to know now as opposed to before," she said honestly. "But I'm curious. I just don't know _anything_ about her. I mean, I don't want to look her up or find her- I just...I guess I just want to know something."

Sam shifted uncomfortably for a moment. "You know your dad doesn't want you talking about this, Natalie," he said gently. She rolled her eyes.

"It's not like I'm asking for nuclear launch codes here!" She stamped her foot. She knew she could get away with that with Uncle Sam- he understood that she was just sometimes frustrated. Dean just saw it as total defiance, which was not to be tolerated. But Sam was cool about this kind of thing. There wasn't much he let her get away with either, but this was okay. Sam smiled kindly at her, feeling the frustration coming off her in waves. "I just want to know _something._ I don't even know what her name was."

At that admission, Sam's heart twisted. He suddenly realized she was right. She had never asked before, and they had never told her. Most kids her age and in her situation would have been told already, but she had no idea. None at all. Sam felt torn. On the one hand, Dean would kill him for even mentioning Natalie's mother. But on the other hand- this was Natalie. His niece. The closest thing to a daughter he would probably ever have- in this universe anyways. He had been right alongside her, since her first day on this planet, taking care of her, watching her grow. In a way, he felt like a parent to her as much as Dean was. And she had every right to know. It was only natural that her curiosity would make her ask.

He glanced towards the house once more to make sure Dean wasn't coming out, then reached out and took Natalie by the shoulders. He leaned way down, so he was looking her right in the eye. He watched as her inquisitive green eyes widened when he got down to her level.

"Look, Natalie," he said quietly. "You cannot let your dad know I told you this, okay? And this is the only thing I'm going to tell you. Don't ask me anything else. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir," she whispered, sensing the gravity behind his words. She leaned forward, hanging on Sam's every word.

Sam took a deep breath. "Your mom's name was Jamie. I'm sorry; I don't remember her last name. But her first name was Jamie."

*SPN SPN SPN*

About an hour later, Sam and Dean were locked and loaded, ready to go take out the demon. Natalie had been hanging around inside with Dean again. Dean guessed that she had talked to Sam about not getting to go on the hunt, gotten all her irritation out, and was back to being his perfect little angel. She had been helpful (as usual) in making sure they had everything they needed for the hunt. She had gotten her good attitude back, and Dean had been quizzing her on the Latin incantation that they would be using that night. Seeing as how he had no idea if it was actually right or not, never having memorized it the way his daughter and brother had, he had taken her word that she was right. It certainly sounded right, so there you go.

Dean was shrugging into his dark leather jacket, going over the typical rules with Natalie. "Alright, you know the drill. But you'll be in bed by the time we get back. At least, you better be."

Natalie giggled. "Yes, sir."

Dean smirked at her, and then called out to Bobby, who was still in the kitchen. "Hey Bobby- make sure she gets to bed before daybreak, okay?"

"No promises," came the gruff answer from the kitchen. Sam rolled his eyes. Dean turned back to Natalie.

"Behave," he said in a firm tone that betrayed the smile playing on his lips.

"No promises."

"You two are hilarious. I'm going to sell you both to the comedy circuit, see how they like you."

"Hey, if I get to meet Amy Schumer, I'm all for it." Dean snorted at her retort, and then reached out to ruffle her hair. She dodged his hand expertly.

"Hey," she said with her ear to ear grin.

"I know. You too."

"I know." Dean turned and headed out the door. Sam lingered for a second, looking at her. Natalie gave him a sweet smile in return. He smiled back and winked at her, confident that she would keep the secret he shared with her, and then headed out the door. Natalie stood at the window and waved as they pulled away, feeling a stab of disappointment that she wasn't in the car with them. But that was quickly replaced by the plan whirling through her brain. She looked at the clock, and began to calculate.

*SPN SPN SPN*

It was about one o' clock in the morning, when the Winchester boys pulled back up to Bobby's house. The demon had been relatively easy to dispatch, and they had made good time coming back, with the roads being empty due to the lateness of the hour. As they climbed out of the car, Dean did a quick scan of the house- all the windows were dark. Bobby must have actually made Natalie go to bed. Dean made a mental note to check to see if she had given him a hard time about it, or if she'd done as he told her to and behaved.

"Looks like everyone's asleep," Dean commented to Sam, gesturing to the windows. "Will wonders never cease." Sam just snorted a bit, too tired to respond. The demon hadn't gone down without a fight, but they were the Winchesters, just taking care of family business. Once they got the sucker in the devil's trap, it had been child's play. The boys quietly made their way into the house. Dean gently set his keys on the small table by the front door, and then his eyes shifted to the stairs. He was about to climb them to go check on his kid, when suddenly Sam tugged on his sleeve. Dean stopped and turned around to see what Sam wanted. Sam just pointed to the living room. A soft, blue light was glowing from the floor behind the sofa. Dean exchanged a glance with Sam, and then slowly walked towards the light, being careful not to make a sound. What he saw surprised the living hell out of him. And then really made him angry.

Natalie was sitting underneath Bobby's desk, her back to the front door. The blue glow that Sam had seen was coming from the open laptop sitting on the floor in front of her. _She must be completely absorbed in whatever she's doing_ , thought Dean. Natalie normally had reflexes like a cat, but she hadn't even registered that there were two people standing directly behind her, one of them, very pissed off. She was up way later than she should have been, playing with a laptop, which she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she was NOT supposed to touch. Dean silently crept closer to the desk. Since she was underneath, Dean also realized that was her way of hiding, indicating that she knew she was doing something bad too. And that ticked him off more than anything else.

"I can't wait to hear the explanation on this one," Dean said loudly. As he expected, she nearly jumped out of her skin. Luckily, she was so short that she didn't hit her head on the bottom of the desk, but she didn't turn around either. She just froze, her head no longer bent over the laptop, but looking straight out. She didn't move a muscle. After a solid minute of Dean's angry breathing being the only sound in the room, he spoke again.

"You know I can see you, right? This isn't freaking Jurassic Park; I can see things that aren't moving." He watched as she shifted slightly, but still didn't turn around. The fact that she seemed to be ignoring him pissed him off even more.

"Natalie!" he barked. "Get out of there, NOW." At that, he saw her deflate, and turn slowly around, refusing to look up. She put her small hands on the ground and crawled out from under the desk. She slowly stood up, and dragged her feet over towards Dean, who was seeing red. He had been right- Natalie moving slowly like that meant that she knew she had been caught misbehaving. Which meant she knew she had been doing something she wasn't supposed to. Dean was so used to her doing exactly as she was told that any disobedience from her felt foreign to him. He hated that feeling.

"Sam, get the lights," Dean threw over his shoulder. Sam reached over and snapped the room lights on. The sudden flood from the lamps on the tables was blinding for her, and she squinted a bit, trying to force her eyes to dilate quicker. Not because she wanted to look at Sam or Dean, but she felt safer knowing that her periphery was working. Dean had no sympathy for her whatsoever.

"So?" he said, in his low tone. "What's the story? You wanna tell me why you were on..." He leaned around her to get a good look at the computer that she was working on. "...MY laptop?" he finished, his tone getting louder. Natalie didn't say anything, she just continued to stare at the worn down rug.

"Answer me, little girl."

Natalie squirmed again in agitation. "I was...I was looking...for something," she finally got out in a mumble.

"Speak up."

She took a deep breath, and tried again. Man, he was pissed. "I was looking for something, sir."

"On my laptop." She nodded. "Don't give me a nod," he growled.

"Yes, sir," she said, her voice catching.

"Are you allowed to be on my laptop without my permission?"

"No, sir."

"So you tell me how you thought that was a good idea."

She didn't say anything. There was nothing she could say. She hadn't expected them to make it back so soon. About fifteen minutes after Bobby had started snoring, thinking that Natalie was in her room, sound asleep, she made her move. She had snatched Dean's laptop from his room, crept downstairs, and hid under the desk just in case Bobby got up in the middle of the night and came down to the kitchen, he wouldn't see her. Her eyes looked quickly at the clock on Bobby's desk. She was surprised to see how late it was, but she had still expected Sam and Dean to be out until at least 2 or 3 with this demon. The plan had been to hack into Dean's computer, and get what she was looking for, erase the browser history, and get in bed before they were home, with no one being the wiser.

"How did you get into my laptop?" Dean thundered at her, bringing her crashing back down to reality. She jumped again slightly, and swallowed hard. "You have to have the password."

"I...um...I bypassed it. Sir."

At that, Dean was taken aback. How the hell did she know how to do that? He turned to Sam, the confusion plain on his face.

"This is what I've been trying to tell you about, Dean," Sam said quietly. Dean just stared at him for a moment, and then turned back around to face Natalie, a look of pure outrage on his face.

"Sam, I know she's stupid good with computers, but I never thought she'd actually go so far as to disobey me and hack into one of them!" Dean roared, speaking to Sam, but directing it at Natalie. He watched as she shrunk away from his voice, and began breathing shallowly.

"Don't you start the waterworks now. It's not going to help you one bit," Dean threatened. Natalie clenched her jaws together, trying to get a grip on herself and obey Dean's orders.

"What were you looking for? Huh? I certainly hope it was worth the amount of trouble you're in."

Natalie mumbled something incoherent.

"Don't make me tell you to speak up again."

"I...don't want to tell you what I was looking for, sir."

Dean actually stopped breathing for a split second, then the anger welled up again, enabling his voice. "Well, that's too bad, 'cause you're going to tell me anyways."

"But-"

"Natalie."

She began fidgeting from foot to foot, her bottom jaw working overtime as she clenched and unclenched it. "You're gonna be mad," she said quietly, but loud enough that Dean could hear.

"Oh, I'm already mad. I'm way past mad. And if you don't want to push me even further, I suggest you answer up, NOW!"

Natalie squeezed her eyes shut tight, and scrunched up her face like she was in pain. "I was..." she stopped, unable to get any more words out.

"You were what?!" Dean thundered, getting incredibly tired of her hemming and hawing.

"I was looking for information...on my mother."

Dean's world stopped. The clock stopped ticking, the clouds stopped moving. His jaw hit the floor, and he felt like someone had poured a bucket of ice water over his head. Never in a million years, did he think that Natalie would have been looking for that bitch. He didn't know what to do- his mind was in complete shambles. She thought...and she had...she was...He couldn't even form a complete thought. His lungs began screaming at him, indicating that he hadn't inhaled in a while. When he finally drew in air, he slowly crossed his arms over his chest. He was so angry, so bewildered, and so hurt, that he honestly didn't know what he would do. After a minute of trying to get his lungs to work properly again, he spoke.

"Go up to your room. Right now. I don't want to see you for the rest of the night," was all he could spit out in a low tone.

Natalie felt her face drain of all the blood in it at his words. Never had he been so mad at her that he said he didn't want to see her. She tried to breath, but she could barely manage a shallow intake of air and hold back the tears at the same time. "Yes sir." She walked past Dean, who immediately turned his back to her. That hurt more than anything. She kept moving, her eyes flicking up quickly at Sam. He looked down at her, gave her a half smile, and jerked his head in the direction of the stairs, sending her on her way. She began to climb the stairs, trying to be as quiet as she could, thinking that any other sound from her would just make Dean angrier. However, halfway up the stairs, she just couldn't take it anymore.

"Daddy, I'm sorry," she whispered, stopping on the stairs, turning towards Dean. He didn't move. He kept his back to her. And her heart cracked in two.

Sam watched as Dean's rejection hit her. Her chin wobbled, then she clenched her jaw and locked down on her emotions. _She looks just like Dean when she does that_ , Sam thought. She turned without another word, and climbed up the stairs the rest of the way. Sam heard her door shut quietly. He exhaled, the tension still incredibly thick in the room. He just stood there, his hands in his pockets, waiting for Dean to turn around. After five minutes of neither of them moving, Sam slowly walked towards his brother. When he stepped to Dean's side, he dared to look at his face. It was frozen in a mask of bewilderment. Sam cleared his throat, but Dean didn't move. Finally, Sam reached down under the desk and retrieved the laptop. He set it on top of the desk, and began examining Natalie's work.

"Holy shit," he breathed. Dean's eyes moved down towards him.

"What?" he said through gritted teeth.

"She took down the Firewall."

"You're shitting me."

"She overrode a system that's supposed to be impenetrable."

"How the hell did she do that?"

"Beats me. I don't even know how to do that." Sam continued his examination. He checked recent search history, and his heart froze. He saw the name "Jamie" had been typed in. With a quick brush of his hand, he erased that, not wanting to give Dean any more fuel for the fire. He clicked on one of the open tabs at the bottom of the screen, but then realized something. "Hey," he said to his brother. "Weren't these files password protected?"

At that, Dean threw up his hands and turned away, exhaling in an angry huff. Sam immediately withdrew his hands from the computer, and waited for Dean to start talking. He didn't have to wait long.

"Sam. She was looking for her mother. She thought that I had some sort of secret file on Jamie that I was keeping hidden from her," Dean spat out.

Sam shrugged weakly. "Can you blame her?"

At that, Dean whipped around. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Sam held up his hands placating. "All I mean by that is that you and I do research all the time- there are tons of things on our computers. And all Natalie knows is that she knows nothing about her mother. I absolutely get how she may have come to that conclusion." Dean opened his mouth to interrupt, but Sam hurried on. "I'm not justifying what she did, I'm just saying that I get how she thought that."

As much as he hated to admit it, Dean saw Sam's point. But it still didn't sit right with him. On top of her disobeying him, she had been digging for things she knew she wasn't supposed to talk about. It took him a while to nail down specifically why it bothered him, but once he hit on it, he couldn't stop it from blurting out of his mouth.

"Why is she asking? Huh? Why now? Why, all of the sudden, this interest in that bitch?"

"I don't know, man. But you had to know she was going to start asking sooner rather than later." Sam looked at Dean, trying to see if that thought had ever occurred to him. "You did know that, right?"

Dean just shook his head, not wanting to admit to Sam that he was all too familiar with that idea. In the dark part of his brain, his deepest fear was beginning to surface. He expertly pushed it back down, not allowing it to cloud his thoughts. The idea that if she wanted to know about her mother, that meant she was unhappy with him. And she wanted to leave. He knew it was irrational and ridiculous, but he couldn't help how he felt anymore than he could keep Natalie from asking so many damn questions. He knew he would have to deal with this fear eventually, but he was too drained. Too tired. And his kid...All of the sudden, without any warning, it hit home. Dean realized exactly what he said to Natalie. Exactly how he treated her. It was like how John had treated him when he had messed up. He suddenly came to the horribly realization that this was how John felt when Sam or Dean had pushed him too far. Torn between his anger and his love for his children. Wanting to hug them and swat them all at the same time, and not knowing which one they needed more.

And then, it dawned on him that he knew exactly how Natalie was feeling as well. He remembered, all too well, that horrible pit in his stomach when he knew John was mad at him. The feelings of worthlessness when John gave him the cold shoulder. He realized that after sending Natalie to bed, he hadn't even looked at her, spoken to her, nothing. Every time John had done that to him had been permanently etched in his mind, and now he had done that to his daughter. Dean felt paralyzed by these sudden epiphanies. Without another word, he found his legs again, charging up the stairs, barreling past a very surprised Sam. When he reached the top of the stairs, he quietly walked to Natalie's door and pushed it open.

She was laying on her bed, sound asleep. But she wasn't under the covers, or even in her pajamas. It seemed like she had collapsed on top of her bed. The small white lamp beside her bed was still on, and in its glow, Dean could make out the tear tracks still staining her face. She had cried herself to sleep. The kid who hated to cry. She had cried herself to sleep.

Dean closed his eyes, in more pain than he knew what to do with. He wanted to touch her, to kiss away the tears, to gather her in his arms and never let go. But he was too afraid. Afraid he would wake her, afraid she didn't want to see him after he had acted like that towards her, afraid of even the feeling of wanting to get close. He had spent so many years pushing people away, avoiding anything that could be constituted as touchy-feely, that these sudden inexplicable rushes were still terrifying. And of course, there was all the emotional turmoil that came with them. Why had he been so nasty? What had she really done to deserve it? Out of all the ways he could have handled the situation, he had chosen the worst possible way. As per usual. He turned off the lamp next to her bed, and retreated from the room. He quietly closed the door, and leaned against it, afraid to even move. He stayed there, beating himself up for all his bad decisions, letting the fear run amok.

 _Hold on a second,_ he thought suddenly. _No. This isn't over. I'm Dean Winchester- I don't do fear. I can fix this._

*SPN SPN SPN*

The next morning, way earlier than he would have normally risen, Dean walked into the kitchen. He knew Natalie was an early riser, and he half expected her to be sitting at the table. So when he walked into an empty kitchen, he was surprised. Sam must have still been asleep, but Bobby was usually up by this time. As if on cue, Bobby walked into the kitchen at that moment. He grunted a "hello" in Dean's direction, and headed straight for the coffee pot.

Without so much as a "hello" grunt back, Dean asked, "Have you seen Natalie?" Bobby's sleepy eyes suddenly lit up, and he began scanning the kitchen.

"Is she missing?" he growled, his eyes searching for signs of forced entry or demonic presence. Dean just shook his head, regretting the way he had just said that.

"No, no. I just haven't seen her this morning," Dean said, explaining himself.

"Did you try looking in her room?" Bobby asked, annoyed. Dean looked surprised.

"Um, no. I, uh, didn't think to look there," he admitted sheepishly.

Bobby rolled his eyes and snorted. "Idjit." He pulled out a mug, and began filling it with coffee. "Scaring an old man like that first thing in the morning. What the hell is your problem?" Dean gave a half hearted shrug as an apology, and walked over to the cupboard. He removed a box of granola bars that he knew Natalie liked, and stuffed a handful of them in his jacket pocket. He snatched a bottle of water from the fridge, then grimaced at it. He quickly filled a travel mug full of coffee for himself, and proceeded to walk back up the stairs. He set the bottle of water and the mug down outside of Natalie's door, and, after taking a deep breath, he knocked.

"Come in," he heard her quiet voice squeak. He pushed open the door to find Natalie fully dressed in different clothes, sitting on her bed. Her face was still showing signs of her tumultuous night- it was still red and swollen, but the tear tracks had disappeared, for which he was extremely grateful. She was looking at him fearfully. Once again, the raging war inside Dean's head was battling- he partially wanted to grab and hug her, but he knew that would freak her out, so he tried to play cool.

"Get your shoes and coat on. We're going for a drive," he finally said in a thick voice. Natalie's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but she instantly slid off the bed and grabbed her sneakers. As she was tying her laces, Dean spoke again.

"Why weren't you in the kitchen this morning?"

She paused for a moment, then resumed tying her shoes, not looking at him. "You didn't give me permission to leave my room yet, sir," she said in a low voice. Dean shut his eyes for a moment as her comment tore at his heart. She was so afraid of him that she hadn't even left her room yet. He knew very well that she had been up for hours at this point. She had always been an early riser.

"Come on. Hurry up," he said in a firm, yet gentle tone. He had to fix this. He couldn't go on like this. He snatched her coat from the chair by her door, and held it out to her. She looked up at him quickly, mumbled "thank you", and slipped into it. Dean nodded his approval, and walked out the door. Natalie took a deep breath, and followed her father. He stopped in the hallway, leaned down, and retrieved the water bottle, handing it to her. He picked up his coffee mug, and together, they headed down the stairs.

*SPN SPN SPN*

They had been driving for about twenty minutes now. Dean had pulled out a couple granola bars from his pocket, and handed them to Natalie, but they just sat, abandoned, on the front seat. It was rare that Natalie was too upset to eat, and that just propelled Dean to drive faster. When they finally reached their destination, an old dirt lot next to an all but forgotten park, Dean turned the car off and climbed out. He made his way to the front of the car silently, and sat down on the hood.

Natalie woodenly followed him. This was going to be the continuation of the lecture she knew she had coming, she figured. She knew she had screwed up, so badly. She just wanted it all to be over, but she was terrified for when Dean started yelling again. And the fact that he had drug her out to the middle of nowhere to yell at her wasn't helping her nerves. She wanted to throw up, scream, cry, and curl into a ball and just wait it out. But she knew that wasn't an option. So she climbed out of the Impala, and met her father at the front of the car. She stood before him, her hands in her coat pockets, her eyes downcast. A thump caused her to look up. Dean was looking at her, and had patted the car hood next to him, indicating that she was to climb up and sit there. She was taken aback- usually when she was getting lectured, he insisted on looking her right in the eye. That was difficult to do when you were sitting next to someone. But he had given her a silent order. She climbed onto the hood, and sat next to her father. Neither one spoke for a minute.

"Natalie," Dean started gently, but before he could get a sentence out, the words exploded out of her.

"Dad, I'm so sorry. I know that I'm not supposed to touch your computer, and I know that I'm not supposed to ask about my mom. I just wanted to know, but I know there's a reason why I shouldn't. And I'm so sorry. I know you mean the best for me, always, and I'm so sorry that I forgot that. I don't want you to have to think about my mother if it hurts you. I swear, I'll never ask again. Please don't hate me. I won't ever do it again. Just please, please don't hate me."

Dean just sat there, listening to her pour her little broken heart out. She finally finished, dropping her head down, and began inhaling rapidly, trying to keep herself from crying. When she had gotten control of herself, he turned his head towards her.

"Natalie Grace, look at me," he commanded. She slowly raised her eyes to meet his gaze. To her utter amazement, all she saw in his eyes was love. "I will never, ever hate you. You are my daughter, and I don't want to even think about my life without you. Understand?" Natalie slowly nodded her head, unable to speak. Dean looked out in the distance again.

"The reason that I don't want to talk about your mother has nothing to do with me."

Natalie wiped her cheek with the back of her hand. "So why don't you want to talk about her then?" she asked hesitantly. A muscle jumped in Dean's jaw for a moment before he answered.

"Because I hate her for what she did to you."

Natalie stared, wide eyed at her father. Dean was still gazing off in the distance. "Natalie, I knew your mom for...a weekend." He closed his eyes, hating how that sounded. He turned to see how the information had gone over with his daughter. Natalie was looking at him expectantly. Apparently, the information hadn't been as shocking as he thought it would be. He didn't want to think about what that meant for how Natalie saw his romantic life. He continued his story.

"Your uncle and I met her when we were on a job. She was a referral- Cas had found out about her. These demons were after her because she had this secret formula that was being used to stop them from spreading evil. I don't know exactly how it all worked, but these demons wanted it- bad. Somehow, they found out about it, and they were trying to finish her off. We got her to safety, got the formula delivered to the right people, and that was that. But she and I...well...we..." He realized he didn't know how to tell Natalie what he and her mother had done, but she was just nodding, indicating that she understood. Dean breathed a sigh of relief- he couldn't handle this plus a "birds and the bees" talk today. One crisis at a time. "I didn't even know you were...around...until your mom was about a week from giving birth. Jamie called me..." he trailed off, realizing that he had never spoken Jamie's name aloud to her. He met her solemn green eyes. "Her name- your mother- her name was Jamie." Natalie nodded slowly, trying to look like this was new information, so as to not throw Sam under the bus. Dean didn't notice- he was already too caught up in the story. After holding it in for ten years, it felt like trying to hold back a flood with nothing but a screen door. The words just wanted to come tumbling out after having been bottled in his brain for so long. "Jamie called me and asked me to come to Seattle. I just assumed that the demons had found her again, so Sam and I dropped everything and ran to Washington. When I knocked on her door, she opened it. And she was huge." He looked quickly at Natalie. "Not like fat, but like...well, she was three days away from giving birth to you. Like I said, I had no freaking clue that she was even pregnant. I mean, we had been careful, and the con-" he broke off at the word "condom". He just couldn't say that to his ten year old, just yet. "Anyways, we determined that you really were mine, and I was right there when you popped out." He looked down at her. "You following me?" he asked.

She nodded her head slowly, as if afraid that he would stop talking if she spoke. He took a deep breath. This was the moment. The moment that he had been dreading ever since the day it had happened. He made sure he was looking right into Natalie's eyes, as if to say, I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. "So your mom gave birth to you, and then...she was gone."

"Gone?"

"She just left. I still don't know how she did it. She managed to get all of the doctors to sign her out, and she gave me the slip too. I walked into the hospital room where she had been, and there was nothing in it except you, crying your eyes out, buckled into a car seat." He stopped, searching her face, wanting to see what this was doing to her. She was too much like him though- her stoic face seemed permanently fixed on, revealing nothing. He kept speaking, wanting this to be over. "I picked you up and took you back to the motel. Your Uncle Sam and I did everything we could to find Jamie. We were afraid that she had been kidnapped, or the demons had found her, or whatever. But there was no trace of the supernatural anywhere. And every eye witness said that they had just seen her walk out of the hospital. That's why there's nothing on my computer about her, kid- there was nothing to find. The phone number that I had had for her was useless- it was disconnected immediately. Sam scoured the internet, but it was like there were no traces that she ever even existed. She was just...not there anymore. And that pissed me off." Dean gritted his teeth, remembering the anger, confusion, and sheer terror of the first few days of Natalie's life.

"I didn't understand how in the world she could just up and walk away. Not after meeting you. Kid, the second you showed up in this world- everything changed." Dean found himself falling through time, going back to that first time he laid eyes on his Natalie Grace. "You...well, to be honest, the first time I saw you, you looked like a blue lump of cheese." Natalie giggled unexpectedly. The tension that had been in the air released, and both father and daughter gave a sigh of relief in tandem. "But after you got cleaned up and got all that crap off of you, you were just...awesome." Dean grinned. "Your fingers were so freaking tiny- it scared the crap out of me. I had never seen anything so little in my whole damn life. You were so little I could fit you in the crook of my arm, no problem at all. And you didn't cry- not at all. The doctor handed you to your mom, who handed you to me after a couple minutes. I thought for sure you were going to start screaming the second I held you. But you didn't. You just...laid there. And you know what?" He turned to Natalie. "You smiled."

Her ten year old dazzling smile broke through now. "I did?" she asked in a whisper.

Dean nodded. "Your mom didn't believe me when I told her, but I know what I saw. Your very first smile, and it was for me. And from that moment on, everything changed. I had to have you in my life. I had already sworn that I was going to stick with you- you can ask your uncle Sam all about that one." Dean rolled his eyes at the memory of telling Sam that there was going to be a new little Winchester running around, and the shit that consequently hit the fan after that. "I already knew I wasn't going anywhere. But with one smile, I knew I would never want to go anywhere else again."

They sat in silence for a moment. The wind rustled through the grass and weeds that were scattered around the park grounds. Dean leaned down to get another look at Natalie's face. "So. Ask away. What other questions do you have for me?" Here. This was the moment to face the fear. Dean mentally steeled himself for whatever came out of her mouth. He was ready.

Natalie didn't speak for a moment. She just sat and watched the clouds moving in the sky "So...Jamie just left me?" she finally managed to stammer out. He found it interesting that she had said "Jamie" and not "Mom". Dean closed his eyes for a moment, then reopened them with an exhale.

"Yeah. She did. And it was the biggest mistake of her life." Natalie's eyes swung to him. "If she would have known how amazing you are, she would never have left you."

"But she did. So you got stuck with me."

Dean reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders, twisting her around so he was looking right into her face. "Hold on, there. Didn't you hear me before? I had already said that I wasn't going anywhere. If you don't believe me, ask Sam. I had flat out refused to put you up for adoption, and there was no way I was leaving you alone with your mom...with Jamie. I was already all-in, kid. And you need to understand that. It was never a question of me not being there. That option wasn't even on the board. It was always going to be you and me against the world. Do you understand?"

"So...you don't feel like you got...stuck with me?"

"Nope. Never have. And never will."

Natalie looked down for a moment, then looked back up at Dean. He could see peace in her eyes. Like she had thought about this before, and now she had her answer. "Hang on. Is that why you were asking about your mom?" Dean said, the pieces suddenly snapping together."Did you get some idea that I got stuck with you?"

Natalie looked away and didn't answer, which was all the proof Dean needed. "Natalie, how the hell did you come up with that one?" he asked, completely baffled.

Natalie sighed heavily. Dean saw the weight of the world on her tiny shoulders, and his heart twisted again. "I'm cleaning at Pop's all the time, every time that we're here now. I found an old journal that he kept, and...you and Uncle Sam and Grandpa were in it." Dean's head spun out- Bobby had a journal with him in it? "He talked about how when you and Uncle Sam were younger, how you both...jumped around from girl to girl...I don't remember exactly how he wrote it." Dean sent up a silent prayer of thanks upon hearing that good news- he was sure Bobby hadn't been delicate about it. "But it got me thinking...if I wasn't around, you probably would have kept doing that. And...you might have been happier."

"Stop right there," Dean ordered, shaking her shoulders a bit to get her to make eye contact with him again. "Listen up. I am not going to be happy if you're not in my life. Simple as that. You got me?"

Natalie looked at him, still unsure. He leaned in. "There's no me without you. Not any longer. It's the same way with Sam. It used to be just the two of us, but since you've been here, it's all changed, and for the better. You are a part of my life, and I'm not going to give that up. Ever. On the day you were born, I made you a promise. I was going to be your hero. I was always going to be there for you. No matter what. If you didn't want to become a hunter, or if you grew up and hated me- whatever. Didn't matter. I wasn't going anywhere." Dean was going to say more, but he was cut off by Natalie launching herself forward and throwing her arms around his neck. He wrapped his own arms around her, holding her tight. Normally, he couldn't stand hugs- too much in the touchy feely category for him. But this was different. This was a moment when he and Natalie understood each other better than they ever had before. He realized that he had been crazy- letting this fear drive him for so long. Yes, it had majorly sucked to have to tell her that her mother abandoned her. But what he hadn't counted on was the fact that his daughter already knew in her heart that he was her hero. She had just needed him to say it. And now, he needed to ask the terrifying question that had resurfaced from the dark part of his brain.

"Do you want to try to find her? You know- Jamie? Do you want me and Sam to try to look for her again?" he said, realizing her from the hug. He turned his head away. He could face this fear by asking the question, but there was not a chance in hell he'd look at Natalie. He wanted her to be able to give him an honest answer, no matter what it did to him.

"Oh, hell no."

Dean's surprised eyes swung around to look at her. She was giving him a look that plainly said, _are you nuts?_ "Really?" he asked, not daring to hope it was as simple as that. "You don't want to try to find her?"

Natalie shook her head definitively. "No way. If she couldn't be bothered to stick around, then why the hell would I want her here? She's probably not even that awesome. No sense in ruining the awesomeness that we got going on." Dean wanted to laugh, to cry, to yell in victory, but he didn't. He just cleared his throat instead.

"Okay, then." After a lifetime of worry had been put to rest, he leaned over, kissed the top of her head, and sat back. "Now," he said, looking into her wide green eyes- _his_ wide green eyes. "How about we go get some real breakfast?"

She giggled again- god, he loved that sound- and slid down off the hood of the car. "Okay!" she said, the bounce back in her step. She pulled open the door to the Impala, climbed in, and buckled her seat belt. Dean just marveled at her. He had just dropped some major life-altering knowledge on her, but she was okay. Hell, she was great. He shook his head, amazed at his kid all over again. He got into the car himself, and started her up. The hum of the Impala's engine was soothing to both of them, and they sighed in tandem once again. As he was pulling out of the parking lot, he thought of one more thing he needed to discuss with her.

"By the way- I'm getting you your own laptop."

Natalie's surprised eyes swung around to meet his face. "Are you kidding?" she blurted out frankly. Dean just snorted.

"Nope. Not kidding. You clearly know what you're doing with computers, and I think it's time you had your own tools for research. However," he said, his voice growing stern. "If I ever catch you on mine or Sam's computer again without permission-"

"I know," she interjected. "You'll murder me in my sleep and make it look like an accident."

"Damn straight." Dean caught Natalie's grin out of the corner of his eye.

"So how the hell did you get so good at hacking into computers anyways?"

She just shrugged, and smiled her angelic smile."Hey," she said quietly, without looking at him.

"I know. You too," he answered back with a grin.

"I know." He could hear the smile in her voice. All was right with the world again.


	35. Family Don't End With Blood

**Good Day, Spectacular SPN Family!**

 **Gonna make this one short and sweet- this is a request from angieggjb. She asked to read about the first time Natalie meets Bobby. So here you go!**

 **Thank you for being a part of my family. From the bottom of my soul- thank you all.**

 **Thanks, hugs, and an Impala to my Sammy.**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is a week old. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

Bobby hung up the phone, and looked apprehensively at Castiel. "So. They should be here in about ten minutes."

"Very well," the angel said, and resumed his nervous pacing around the living room. Bobby took a deep, calming breath. It didn't work.

When Dean had called Bobby two weeks ago, the last thing he had expected to hear out of the boy's mouth was that there was another little Winchester on the way. He knew that both Sam and Dean- Dean especially- liked to "get around" with the ladies, but he also knew that they were careful to avoid this situation. Well, apparently, this time, Dean hadn't been careful enough. After picking his jaw up off the floor, Bobby had given Dean an ear blistering that would have made John Winchester proud. However, once he had gotten it all out of his system, he stopped and thought about what his boy actually needed. Dean himself knew that he was up shit creek on this one; now he needed help. And Bobby was going to be there. The boys were family, after all.

Dean had given Cas the heads up that they were going to be bringing the baby back to Bobby's house South Dakota to lay low for a while. Castiel had immediately gone to Bobby's to wait for them. It had been the surprise of Bobby's life to wheel into the front room this morning, look out onto his yard, and see an angel in a trench coat. Cas was just quietly standing there, hands at his side, watching the road and not moving. Bobby had thrown open the door in surprise.

"Cas? What the hell are you doing?" he had said to the angel, perplexed.

"I'm waiting for Sam and Dean to return with the child."

"Why didn't you ring the doorbell and ask to come in?"

At that, Cas turned around and looked at Bobby. It was clear to the old man that the angel hadn't even considered it. "Because I am perfectly capable of waiting out here. I saw no need to bother you."

"How long have you been out here?" Bobby quickly glanced at the clock- it was going on 11 am.

"Since 9 o'clock last night."

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Just get in the damn house, Cas."

"Very well."

That had been this morning. Dean had just called, saying that they were about ten minutes away. Bobby wasn't sure who was more nervous- himself or the angel. No longer as calm as he had been in the front yard, Castiel had been pacing the living room, wearing a circle in the floor since they had received Dean's call. Since Bobby couldn't exactly pace, being stuck in his damn wheelchair once again, he had parked himself by the window to watch the road. After Lucifer had snapped his neck, Cas once again hadn't been able to fully heal him. Bobby had been beyond frustrated, being confined to the chair again. To have a taste of freedom, only to have it ripped right back from him, had been torturous. He had made Dean a promise the first time this happened- that he wouldn't think about checking out. And now that Dean desperately needed his help, he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he couldn't. Sam had just come out of the box, and his mental state had been rough, to say the least. But both his boys were fighters. They had been working through it, when this little kink in the plan happened. And he knew he had to stick it out and fight- just like his boys- and for his boys.

Castiel had been nothing but confused all day. After the final battle, when Sam had taken the fall (literally) and saved the world, he had earned some heavenly brownie points pulling him back out and saving the younger Winchester. He was still not favorably regarded by most of his brothers, but he had recovered a small portion of his powers. He had been trying to get a grasp on his new situations and limitations, which was enough to overload anyone. And then Dean told him that there was a new Winchester to deal with as well. He was fully aware of how babies were created- he just didn't know how Dean had come to have one. The story of the baby's mother was also a large source of confusion to Cas, but he wasn't alone in that.

Sam had called, three days after the baby had been born, and told Bobby (who told Cas) all about Jamie's disappearance. Bobby had been working, pulling every string and calling in every favor to try to locate her, or to even get an idea of where she might have gotten to. Castiel had even searched in his own unique way- a mixture of Angel Radio and asking random people on the street. Both of them had come up with nothing. Bobby was starting to accept what Sam didn't seem to be able to- that Jamie didn't want to be found. But he knew Sam was determined to make this right for Dean. Dean, however, had written the baby's mother off instantly upon learning of her deception. Sam had asked Bobby to keep a low profile on the search. He had, knowing that Dean would have been pissed if he knew that they were still trying to locate Jamie, but he was at a dead end from every angle.

His grim thoughts were interrupted by Cas's halting steps. Bobby looked up at the puzzled angel. "Bobby- what do you think the baby will look like?" Castiel asked quietly.

Bobby wrinkled his forehead. "I think she's going to look like a baby. What the hell kind of question is that?" he growled at Cas, who immediately resumed pacing.

"It's just that...well...I've never seen a baby before."

"What?" Bobby rolled his chair closer to the angel, watching his every move.

"I've seen them from a distance, you know..."

"From Heaven?"

"Yes. They are generally very small and fragile."

Bobby pinched his lips together and took a slow breath. He often had to remind himself that talking to Castiel was akin to talking to a five year old. You just had to take it slow. "Yes, Cas. They're very small. You're going to have to be careful when you hold her."

At that, Cas stopped dead in his tracks. "I am supposed to hold her?" he said, the panic in his voice clear. Bobby shrugged.

"Well, I guess you don't have to if you don't want to," he said, eying the angel again. "But I'd think that the safest place for a baby to be is in the arms of an angel."

Castiel looked down at his arms like he was seeing them for the first time. He dropped them, then looked back at Bobby, questioning. "Wouldn't your panic room be safer to guard her in?" At that, Bobby gave up. Just then, he saw a pair of headlights sweep the front of the house. His heart dropped through the seat of his chair.

"They're here," he said quietly, and wheeled his way towards the door. He didn't know why he was shaking. He cleared his throat, trying to get a grip on himself. It was just a baby. Not a demon, not a vamp, just a baby. Why the hell was he so nervous? Oh. Because his life was about to completely change in a way that he was totally unprepared for, that's why. He knew demons. He knew spirits. He knew nothing about infant girls. He supposed he'd end up figuring it all out eventually, the way he figured everything else out. All in all, he was secretly glad it was Dean and not him.

Bobby looked out the window. He was surprised to see Sam behind the wheel, but then he realized it was because Dean was in the backseat with his kid. And that thought right there was enough to send him into full panic mode again. He clamped down on it. He needed to be strong for his boys right now. He could freak out on his own time.

Sam got out of the driver's seat, and opened the back passenger door. As Bobby watched through the window, Sam opened the trunk. He saw the boy withdraw the usual duffle bags, the weapons bag- and a bright green bag with a monkey on the front. Definitely the last thing anyone had expected to ever come out of Baby's trunk. Bobby watched as Sam made his way back to the passenger door, and stop. He seemed to be arguing with Dean. Bobby wheeled himself towards the front door. Cas saw where he was heading, and made his way over, opening the door for the older man. As the door opened, they caught the middle of the fight the boys seemed to be having.

"-have to push it down and back, Dean!"

"I know that, Sam. It's stuck."

"It's not stuck- you're not doing it right."

"Hey. Who's the one who put this thing in here in the first place? I know what I'm doing." Just then, there was a loud click, and a satisfied exclamation from Dean. "See? Told you."

"Well, just...just be careful, okay?"

"Okay, mom," came the snarky response. Bobby and Cas looked at each other. Well, at least some things never changed. They watched as Dean backed out of the car, then reach in. Bobby took a deep breath, and he heard Cas take one too. Dean reemerged- with a baby carrier in his hand. Both angel and man exhaled at the same time. Sam picked up the green monkey bag as Dean very carefully held the carried with both hands. He looked up to see Bobby and Castiel staring at him. He threw on his trademark cocky grin.

"Hey! So- funny story," Dean said, hoisting the carrier with a bit of a twinkle in his eye. That was the ice breaker that Bobby needed, even if he wouldn't show it. He snorted and shook his head, looking down at the boy.

"I can hardly breath, I'm laughing so much," Bobby growled, but Dean could see the corners of his mouth pulling up. "Get in here, you two. I mean- you...three..." Unable to complete the rest of his thought, Bobby just shook his head and turned his chair back towards the door. Dean walked up the steps to the porch, right up next to Cas.

"Hello Dean," Castiel said in his gravelly voice, but his eyes were firmly locked on the very tiny bundle that was in the carrier. Dean's lips twisted to the side in amusement, watching the angel stare at the baby.

"Hey Cas. What's new?" he said, throwing him a lopsided grin to cover up his own panic over the situation. Cas looked at him and blinked.

"Your baby. That's what's new." Dean just closed his eyes and smiled. Should have seen that one coming.

"Come on. Come meet her," Dean said, looking down into the carrier. Castiel's eyes shifted to Dean's face. He was stunned by what he saw.

Dean's face had transformed, looking at the baby. His eyes were soft and gentle- Cas had never seen Dean's eyes be anything other than angry or stressed. His sarcastic grin always suggested to the casual onlooker that he was fine, but Cas knew Dean too well. He could always see what was behind those smiles. But now- this was different. Dean had changed. Dean was smiling- for real. Castiel had never seen Dean look happy before. At least, not when there were no strippers around.

He followed Dean into the house, Sam bringing up the rear and closing the door gently behind them. Dean set the carrier down on the desk, and lifted the baby out very slowly. He was getting better at moving her, but the sheer terror of possibly hurting her wasn't something he was going to get over in a week. Once she was free of the car seat, he breathed an audible sigh of relief.

"Alright boys. Meet the newest Winchester. This is Natalie Grace," he said, a touch of pride ringing in his voice. Bobby wheeled closer to him- he was having a hard time seeing the baby from the chair, what with the low vantage point and all the blankets. Dean leaned down, and Bobby got his first look at Natalie. His first thought was that Dean had missed the baby, and was only holding blankets. But then, she shifted in her sleep, and Bobby finally saw her.

"Huh. Where's the rest of her?" he said in his gruff manner. That earned him the double bitch face from both Sam and Dean, but he was too busy looking at the baby. "She's the tiniest thing I ever saw."

"Yeah. She's actually very small- but according to the doctors, perfectly healthy," Sam said, watching the older man's reaction. Bobby just slowly nodded. The little face inside the soft pink blankets was mesmerizing. Dean's grin nearly split his face.

"You wanna hold her?" Dean asked, tilting his head at Bobby. It was almost like a challenge, and they both knew it. Dean half expected Bobby to utter an oath followed by a resounding "You nuts?" He knew the old man was going to be freaked as hell to try to hold an infant. Bobby's pride, however, wasn't going to take a challenge like that lying down. He cleared his throat, and held out his arms.

"Bring her on," he said forcefully, to disguise the shaking in his voice. Dean walked over and slid her into Bobby's arms, hovering near. No one else other than Sam, Jamie, and the nurses had held her yet, and he was a combination of excited and anxious, seeing his newborn in Bobby's arms. Dean shook his head, once again finding himself baffled by the emotions this little pipsqueak already brought out in him. But he didn't want to think about that now- he wanted to watch Bobby's reaction. Bobby seemed almost afraid to move at first, but then he gently bounced the baby a few times. She smacked her lips twice, then snuggled back down, not fully coming out of sleep.

"Looks like they forgot to give you the other half of the baby, Dean," he said jokingly. "You've only got a little bit here. Ain't that right, Little Bit?" Bobby crooned to the sleeping infant. He continued rocking her, staring down at her, as she silently wove her way into his heart. Dean exchanged a quick smile with Sam, who was also watching Bobby like a hawk. He looked over to see Cas still standing near the door, looking at the child quizzically. Dean gestured with his hand.

"Cas, it's okay. She's not gonna bite. Not until she gets teeth, anyways," Dean joked. When Cas turned a very worried eye to him, Dean rolled his own. "It was a joke, buddy. It's okay." Cas still didn't move. Dean started to become concerned about the angel's reaction- it was making him nervous.

"Why don't you come hold her?" Dean said, cocking one eyebrow at the angel.

"No, I don't think that would be a good idea," Cas answered immediately. Dean felt a sudden rush of anger. What the hell was wrong with his baby? Cas thought he was too good to hold her or something? Before he could blow his lid completely unprovoked however, Cas continued. "I'm...afraid that I might...hurt her."

Dean exhaled suddenly, and chuckled a bit. "Cas, look. Sam and I have kept her alive for a whole week already. If something was going to happen, one of us woulda already done it. Trust me- you're not going to hurt her."

Cas still didn't move. "All the same, I don't think I would like to hold her." But Dean could see something warring inside the angel. He waited to see if Cas was going to mention it of his own accord. After a brief moment, he did. "May I...touch her?" Cas asked tentatively. Dean grinned and nodded.

"Sure thing, buddy. Come here," he said, walking over to Bobby, who was still cradling Natalie in his arms. Making sure that Cas was watching, Dean reached out and stroked Natalie's cheek, gently. In her sleep, the baby smiled, and seemed to turn a bit towards Dean.

"See, man? That's all there is to it. Easy as pie," Dean said. Cas slowly stepped forward, acting more like Bobby was holding a ticking bomb than a baby. He stretched one finger out, and very carefully touched Natalie's cheek. He drew his hand back quickly, almost as if he expected her skin to burn his fingers or something, but he continued to look at her quizzically. Bobby smirked at the angel.

"She didn't smile at you," he said smugly to Cas.

"She really responds to Dean's touch," Sam said, walking over to them. "She has since the day she was born." Castiel didn't hear any of that, however. He was mystified by what he felt. Very slowly, he reached out and touched the baby's cheek again. This time, he didn't draw his finger away. Natalie opened her eyes, waking up, just for a moment.

A warm rush ran over his body when he made contact with Natalie's cheek. It made him happy, this sudden flood of warmth. It disappeared as fast as it had come on, but he felt drawn to the child. He wondered if this was a normal human experience- to be overcome with feeling upon meeting a new family member. He withdrew his hand, and looked at the tiny face. Her eyes were still open, and she was looking right at him. For the second time since meeting her, Cas experienced another strange sensation.

"She...looks familiar," Castiel said slowly, interrupting the conversation that Bobby and Sam were having about Natalie's birth. All three men turned their heads towards the angel. He looked up, and then over at Dean. "She has your eyes."

That threw Dean for a loop. "Really? You think so?" he asked, looking down into his daughter's face. Sam had told him the same thing, but it was different hearing it from someone else. Cas nodded. He didn't elaborate any more than that- he didn't feel that he needed to. He watched as Natalie's eyelids slowly slid closed, ushering her into dreamland once more.

"Well, if she's got my eyes, she's definitely going to be a heart breaker then," Dean said with a cocky grin, but secretly bursting with pride that both Bobby and Cas seemed just as taken by the baby as could be. Dean gently lifted her out of Bobby's arms, and stepped back. He looked down at the sleeping bundle. "Alright, squirt- here's the rest of the family," he said quietly, not wanting to wake her up again. "That old guy that was holding you? That's Bobby," he said, with a grin at Bobby, who narrowed his eyes at being called "old". "Bobby's part of our family. You'll get to know him pretty good." Dean turned towards Cas. "And the freak that was afraid to touch you? That's Cas. He's an angel. He's like..." Dean looked up, right into Cas's eyes. "He's like a brother to us," Dean said with a smile.

"Thank you Dean," Cas said, very quietly. He was moved by Dean's words, but felt that he needed to address the baby, since she had just been introduced to him. "Hello, Natalie Grace. I...think you are very small. And pretty. For a baby. I like your name." Cas stepped back, and looked at Dean, wanting to know if that was alright. Dean just chuckled.

"Alright boys, this little lady and I are heading upstairs, because I'm tired from the trip and she's tired from being born. So good night." And with that, Dean abruptly turned and headed up the stairs towards his room.

Sam called up after him. "Be up in a second to help you set up the bassinette."

"I can do it on my own!"

"You didn't take it with you."

Silence. "Shut up."

Sam just shook his head, then turned to Bobby and Cas. "Be right back." He darted out the front door quickly. Bobby could hear him removing other items from the trunk.

"I will go assist him," Castiel said, needing to be useful. He followed Sam's footsteps, leaving Bobby to sit and think about how rapidly all their lives had changed, in just two weeks. Sam came back in with a foldable bassinette in his arms. He stooped quickly, picking up the green monkey bag, and headed up the stairs. Bobby watched as Cas continued to unload the ocean of infant paraphernalia from the car, and bring it inside the house. When Sam came back down, he saw Bobby staring at the stairs. He gave the old man a quizzical look. Bobby didn't move his head as he responded.

"Out of all the reactions I imagined getting from Dean when you two came back this time- that was the last one I expected," the old man said ominously. Before Sam could ask him to elaborate, Castiel walked through the door with the last load from the car. The angel deposited it into the neat pile on the floor, then straightened up, looking at the two of them.

"Unless you all require further assistance, I believe I should go," he said quietly. Both their eyes swung to the angel in surprise.

"Cas? You okay?" Sam asked, surprised by the angel's nervous attitude. Cas nodded, but then looked at Sam with scared eyes.

"I don't want to hurt the baby. She's so little," he said in a small voice. Sam gave him an understanding smile.

"Cas, she's upstairs, asleep. You're not going to hurt her. You touched her, right? That didn't hurt her," Sam said, trying to reassure the angel. He felt there was something else going on- something he was missing, but he couldn't quite name it.

"All the same, I think I will go," he said, and before either man could get another word in, Castiel was gone. This was all just a bit too much for him. He needed to get away and, to use a human phrase, "process". He vanished into thin air.

Sam exhaled loudly, then went to take a seat on the couch. "I didn't get a chance to thank him," he said to Bobby, eyeing the huge pile of luggage and baby items that now adorned the living room.

"I'm sure he'll be back before you know it," Bobby said gruffly, wheeling his way over to Sam. He came to a stop in front of his boy, watching him carefully. "So how you doin' with all this mess?" he asked point blank. Sam's eyes swung to him. It wasn't surprising that Bobby was cutting right to the issue- but Sam felt like he didn't really have a right to talk about how this was affecting him. This was all about Dean.

"Just...wanting to do whatever helps Dean through this," Sam said carefully. He should have known that wasn't going to fly. The old man snorted, and looked Sam right in the eye.

"Of course you are. What I want to know is what your take is on this whole thing, because if you think I haven't noticed the toll that it's already taking on you, you're dumber than I thought you were," Bobby said matter of factly. Sam sighed heavily and laid his head back on the couch, not wanting to look at Bobby.

"It's...I don't know, Bobby. I feel...guilty."

"What do you mean, 'guilty'?"

"I mean- when Dean told me that Jamie left...we...got into it. I tried to convince him not to bring the baby with us."

"You did what?!"

Sam sat forward, burying his head in his hands. "I know. I know."

"What the hell were you thinking, boy?!" Bobby hissed at Sam. He really wanted to roar at the boy, tear him apart for that, but with Dean and the baby upstairs, he didn't want to cause a fuss and risk waking either of them up. However, Sam finished off his thought.

"I wasn't thinking, okay? I mean...all I could think about...all that I could see..." Sam gulped, willing the tears to stay in his eyes. He still couldn't look at Bobby. "Look. From the moment I laid eyes on Natalie, I already loved her. Not only is she my niece, but the way Dean looks at her-" Sam was finally able to look up at the old man. "Bobby- I've never seen him smile like that before. He...transformed...I don't know how else to say it. He was freaking out from the moment we arrived at Jamie's house until the moment he held Natalie for the first time. But after that? It all just went away." Bobby looked like he was about to interrupt, but Sam held out his hand. He was finally going to talk about this, and didn't want to lose the momentum he had going. Bobby understood that in the gesture, and closed his mouth obligingly. Sam continued. "He's freaked out plenty of times since then. He still won't mix up a bottle unless I'm watching. The first time she started crying and he couldn't get her to stop, he nearly lost his mind. But then- when it's okay, and she's happy, it's like a reset button gets hit on him. She makes him happier than I've ever seen him be. And how am I supposed to argue with that?"

"Why did you want to argue with him in the first place?" Bobby asked gruffly. Sam threw up his hands, like the answer was obvious.

"You really need to ask?!" He bounded off the couch, his frustration and agitation taking the reins. "Because we're hunters, Bobby! Because we actively seek out evil to destroy it! How the hell are we supposed to do that with a baby in tow?" Sam began pacing around the room. "Dean and I have been killing monsters our whole lives. It's nearly killed both of us countless times. Hell, it HAS killed both of us. And we're supposed to bring an innocent child along for the ride?!" Sam suddenly stopped pacing and put his hands on his hips, his back to Bobby. "She deserves a chance at a normal life. I...I already love this kid, too much. And the second any demon gets wind of that, they'll try to use her against me, let alone what they'll do to Dean. She was born with a bull's-eye on her head. No child deserves that. I need her to be safe, Bobby." Sam turned to him, and Bobby could see the tears running down the young man's face. "She's my niece. I love her," he said, pleading with Bobby for him to understand. "I just...I need her to be safe, and I don't think that's with us." At that, Sam couldn't go on any more. He put his fingers to his eyes, as if to stop the flow of tears. Bobby thought for a moment, then spoke quietly.

"And you don't think the safest place for a child is with the two of you? The two damn best hunters out there?" Bobby said flatly. "If something's gonna come after her, I'd say you two would be stupid to keep her apart from you."

"But that's just it, I mean- if we keep here, aren't we guaranteeing that something like that will happen?" Sam said, the panic in his voice clear. "Aren't we condemning her by keeping her? Bobby- I can't live with myself if we're damning her to this lifestyle."

Bobby took a deep breath. There was a ring of truth to Sam's words that he couldn't ignore. He thought for a moment, then looked his boy right in the eye. "Sam- I hear you. I get what you're saying. But you're forgetting that she's got very powerful protection in you boys."

Sam shook his head. "Bobby, we're not infallible."

"Not sayin' you are. But you think about what you would do for Dean in a life threatening situation. What you HAVE done for Dean. And you think about what he's done for you. Now combine those two forces of nature and try to tell me that that little girl's not going to be fine, with you and her daddy watching over her. Not to mention, me. And an angel. I've told you this before, boy. Family don't end in blood. Don't you dare think for a moment that the angel and I aren't already prepared to go to battle for her. Because- she's family." Bobby rolled right up to Sam, who was taking deep breaths, trying to stem the flow of tears. "We stick together. It's what we do. The sooner you get that through your head, the easier you're going to sleep at night." Sam's eyes bore into Bobby's, desperately craving the reassurance he was offering. Sam took one more shaking breath, and smiled softly.

"Thanks, Bobby," he said quietly. Suddenly embarrassed by the onslaught of emotion that had just been pouring out of him, Sam shook his head once and cleared his throat. "Hey, I'm uh, gonna go get some sleep. Uh...thanks. Thanks again. I...needed that." Without waiting for Bobby to respond, Sam turned on his heel, picked up his duffle, and made his way towards the stairs.

"Sam," Bobby called out gruffly. Sam stopped midstep and turned, looking at the old man. "For the record," Bobby said, "You're gonna make a great uncle." Sam swallowed the lump in his throat, nodded once, and made his way up the stairs. He wasn't sure if he was going to be great, like Bobby just said, but he resolved right then and there that he was going to go back to Hell before allowing himself to fail Natalie.


	36. Hell's Bells Part 1

**Hey Gorgeous SPN Family! Less than one month away from season 12! WOOHOO!**

 **I'm working crazy hours right now, so this next story is one of my own creating. I promise, I will get back to writing and publishing your requests when I'm not working 14 hour days :) Keep your requests coming! If you've got an account with , I try to answer your requests via message. However, I got a request from a guest, and I can't reply to them. So to dear Kim who requested the story of Natalie's birth- absolutely I will write it, but it's a three part story, so it's going to be a long time before I can. Those who have requested stories know that it takes me FOREVER to write them, but I promise, I will! Hang with me, I will come through for you.**

 **Special thanks to my Sammy- Jenmm31. Go check out her stories- she's a brilliant writer. I know that she's cooking up some good stories just as soon as she gets two seconds to sit down, ha ha! Hugs, girl! You're awesome!**

 **Thank you all for sticking with me. It means the world to me. I love you all! Please read, review, and enjoy!**

 **A/N- This is part 1 of a three part story. In this story, Natalie is 10. This also happen right after the story of Dean and Natalie almost setting fire to the motel room- Chapter 31. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

"Are we there yet?"

"No."

"Are we there yet?"

"No, Bug."

"Are we there yet?"

"Yes. Get out and walk."

"Are we there yet?"

Dean's eyes met his daughter's in the rear view mirror. "You ask that one more time, I will pull this car over and stuff you in the trunk."

Silence. For thirty seconds.

"Are we there yet?"

Dean inhaled and growled out, "Natalie..."

Natalie gave off one of her typical theatrical groans, and slumped sideways on the seat. It was bad enough being trapped in a car with two dudes, but when you were ten and had more energy than you knew what to do with, it all became even more unbearable. She was bored, bored, BORED. And when she got bored, she usually got into trouble. Not because she was a bad kid- just because the world offered so many unique and potentially dangerous glittering baubles for a child with a not-exactly healthy balance of common sense and fear. Sam looked over his shoulder at her. She was still dramatically sprawled out over the backseat.

"Buckle up," he said, gently but firmly. Natalie hauled herself back up and snapped the buckle into place. She knew she wasn't supposed to unbuckle while she was in the car, but it was so much harder to be dramatic when you had your seat belt on. She glared out the window at the scenery. They had been driving for close to five hours now. They hadn't even stopped for lunch- just going through a drive-thru. She hadn't gotten to stretch except the timed five minute long bathroom break they had gotten about an hour ago. And that was just enough to drive her batty. Just one sweet taste of freedom before being unceremoniously stuffed back into the Impala; her leisure gone on the wind with the click of a belt buckle. She knew better than to complain, though. Complaining got her more homework to "keep her from being bored". Annoying them got her dirty looks. She knew which one she'd take any day. She opened her mouth to ask the dreaded question again, when Sam suddenly turned back around.

"How's the Latin coming?" he asked. She suddenly found reason to look anywhere other than her uncle. For some reason, in her mind, if she wasn't looking directly at him, he would eventually let her off the hook on answering his questions. Unfortunately, that never worked.

"Have you started?"

Silence.

"Hand it over."

With a sigh, Natalie reached into her backpack and handed over the blank sheet of verbs she was supposed to be translating into Latin. She had finished the rest of her homework hours ago. She didn't see the point in doing all the extra work NOW. When Sam took the paper, he stared at it for a moment, then flipped it over. When he saw that both sides were blank, he turned back to his niece, who was still avidly avoiding eye contact.

"Why isn't a single thing done on this, young lady?" he asked sternly. Natalie just shifted guiltily and stared out the window.

"Answer him," Dean said. Natalie rolled her bottom jaw around. Great. Now she was in for it.

"It's not fair that I have to do extra Latin!"

"And who brought that on herself?"

"Dad's getting to drive!"

"Because his ankle is healed. Your week isn't up yet." Sam thrust the paper back at her, and she took it reluctantly. "Get to work."

Natalie reached down and pulled her pencil out of her backpack, not saying another word. She hated when Uncle Sam gave her extra Latin homework as a punishment. Besides, it had taken two to tango- she didn't start that fire in the motel room by herself, earning her the week of extra Latin torture. But Sam couldn't punish Dean with extra homework, he had just not been allowed to drive until his sprained ankle had healed. The stupid sprained ankle that caused both father and daughter to be bored enough to start the aforementioned fire. Well, Dean's ankle was healed, but Natalie still had two more days to go until her week of extra homework was up. It just wasn't fair. She silently started struggling through the Latin. She could speak it just fine, but for some reason, had some weird block when it came to reading and writing it. She understood the lilt and feelings behind the spoken word, so it was easy. Well, try spelling it and that was a whole 'nother ballgame.

Dean quickly glanced at her. Her head was bent down over her work, and her mouth was shut. He could practically see the frustration rolling off of her, but that didn't mean she was getting out of finishing her work. He was very strict about her doing her school work while on the road. She was a bright kid who actually did enjoy learning. He had no idea where she had gotten that particular trait from. He had despised school and everything about it. He wanted to encourage her to keep up with her schoolwork like he never could. And usually, it wasn't too hard to do that. She and Sam could wax poetic about any number of topics for hours, which was usually when he slept. He was in charge of the fun stuff.

He had been training her in the hunting life- everything from how to throw a proper punch to how to reload and shoot with one hand. For being only ten, she was getting pretty good at the hunting game too. He had actually consented to taking her on a couple trips with them into cases. Mostly salts and burns, but she had performed an exorcism already. He grinned and nearly burst with pride every time he thought about that. He still wouldn't take her on anything that he considered too terribly dangerous, and in their line of work, that included most things. She was spending a lot of time in the motel rooms that they rented for the duration of their cases, studying any lore that she could get her hands on. Since they had gotten her her own laptop, she was also proving to be quite a little wunderkind when it came to things like internet research. She was getting better than Bobby, but neither of the brothers were ever going to tell him that. They just kept letting her do her own thing. And it seemed to be working.

About an hour later, they pulled into the town where their latest case was. Quaker City, Ohio. The "welcome to" sign at the town line boasted less than 1000 residents. All three Winchesters wrinkled their noses at that. One, it made their cases tougher, since in small towns, everyone seemed be up in everyone else's business. Natalie didn't like it because there probably weren't a lot of kids her age to play with. Sam didn't like it because they probably didn't have a decent library. Dean didn't like it because in a town called Quaker City, they probably didn't have a strip club.

They found a motel, just inside of the town line. They quickly checked in, and hauled their gear inside. Natalie started unpacking by pulling out her stuffed golden retriever puppy that Dean had gotten her when she was five. She knew she was getting a little old for it, but she loved that dog; sleeping better when he was in her arms. Dean wasn't about to discourage anything that meant she would actually be sleeping, and besides, she was still a kid. She had plenty of time before she needed to give that thing up.

"The dog make the trip okay?" Dean asked, a hint of a smile in his voice.

"Good as gold," Natalie said, hugging her puppy before placing him down gently on the sofa. She pulled out her blanket and tossed it over the back of the couch, where the bright blue color clashed horribly against the lime green walls. "Ugh," she muttered. "It looks like this whole room's been dipped in lime green jello."

"Hey- there's always room for jello."

That one got an eye roll from both his daughter and his brother. Dean smiled, very pleased with himself. But he had to agree with the kid. "I'm pretty sure every motel room has to be designed by a porn star from the seventies. It's like a law or something." Dean heard Natalie giggle, which made his forehead wrinkle in consternation. He looked at her. "You're not going to ask what porn is?" he wondered. Natalie was never hesitant to ask about anything, and for the most part, now that she was getting older, he was willing to fill her in. Since the kid knew practically everything anyways.

However, she just gave him a blasting bitch face. _Damn Sam for teaching her that,_ Dean thought to himself. Natalie held out her hand like she was going to shake his. "Hi, I'm Natalie. I'm your daughter. Of course I know what porn is." Now it was Dean's turn for a bitch face. Which, in turn, made Natalie giggle again. The midafternoon sun streaming through the windows was nice and warm on the February day.

"What do you think? Wanna go right into town and take a look?" Sam asked Dean, who shrugged in response.

"No time like the present," he answered.

"Can I go?" Natalie said, popping up from the couch. Dean didn't even turn to look at her.

"Your homework done yet?" He heard her sigh and thump back down on the couch, and he chuckled to himself. She knew exactly what his answer would be if she said no, so she hadn't even tried to push it. Smart kid. Sam stepped into the bathroom to change into his fake FBI gear. Dean walked towards the couch and sat down next to his kid, who was still pouting at not being able to go.

"You know, if you'd finished your Latin in the car like you were supposed to-" he started, and looked at her. She turned to him, expressionless.

"I probably still wouldn't be going anyways," she grumbled. Dean laughed and put his arm around her. Normally, he was just not one for physical affection, but this was his kid- she was different. It didn't feel forced, or even girly when it was her. If anything, he felt more like a man. She slumped sideways into his torso. "When are you going to start taking me on cases with you all the time?" she asked.

Dean shrugged. "Don't know. But come on- you've been on quite a few already."

"I mean the big stuff."

"Well, short stack, start growing and I'll tell you."

"Shut up!" she said, giggling as she socked him in the stomach. He just chuckled in response. Out of all the personality traits she had inherited from Dean, she certainly didn't have much in the way of his physicality. She was very short, even for her age. Her jet black hair looked a lot more like her mother's than a Winchester's. But there was no mistaking those striking green eyes. He'd never tell her, but Natalie had no idea how much trouble those eyes had gotten her out of. All she had to do was blink innocently at Dean, and it could bring him back down from whatever rage cloud he was on. He was still very stern with her, but she was thriving under the structure. They seemed like they were built for each other. She kept him light, he held her to earth.

Once Sam had gotten changed, Dean quickly did the same, and they took off for the police department in town. Natalie had been given strict instructions that the Latin was to be completely finished by the time they got back, and as they left, she was pulling it out and placing it on the table to work on. Dean had done his usual run-through-the-rules and wait to hear the door lock behind him, then he and his brother got in the Impala. They quickly found the police station in the small town and walked into it, putting on the same air that they always put on when impersonating officers. They strolled up to the front desk, pulling out their badges in tandem.

"I'm Agent Johnson, this is Agent Rudd," Dean said, giving a nod to Sam. "We're with the FBI."

"We're here to investigate the death of Colin Murray," Sam explained. The receptionist paged a detective, and without delay ushered the boys into her office. When the detective stood up from behind her desk, both Winchesters literally stopped in her tracks. She was gorgeous- looking like she had just stepped out of a Victoria's Secret catalogue, but of course, wearing clothing. They both almost instantly recovered, but there was a slight rush and shuffle between them to shake her hand first. The detective appeared not to notice. She was all professional, with a good grip, which did nothing except exacerbate the situation.

"Agents, I'm Detective Hudson. Please, have a seat." She indicated the chairs in front of her desk. The boys sat down and tried to look serious instead of checking her out. It wasn't easy.

"I must admit," she said, "I'm a little surprised that the FBI are getting involved here." One of her perfectly shaped eyebrows went up. Dean gave her his best charming smile.

"Well, it's just weird enough that they called us away from the typical inner city crime sprees we normally work on. You know, saving innocent children, restoring justice to an unbalanced world, that kind of thing." He grinned at her. He could see her suppressing a tiny smile, but she quickly locked it up, choosing instead to stay on track of the case. Dean was confused. She didn't immediately fall under his charms?

"Well, what can I do to help your investigation, gentlemen?" Detective Hudson said.

"First off, can you tell us a little about the incident?" Sam asked.

"Colin Murray was a junior in our local high school. Allegedly, he was just walking to class with some of his teammates- he was on the football team- when they said he suddenly started screaming, putting his hands over his ears. He collapsed in the hallway. One of the students rushed to get a teacher, but by the time the teacher came out, Murray was dead."

"So there were eye witnesses."

"Seems like the entire school saw it happen."

"You said he was covering his ears- was there any indication as to why?" Sam questioned.

"There was blood coming out from his ears and his eyes. Authorities are assuming it was some kind of aneurism, but the autopsy won't be performed until tomorrow morning. We should know more then."

"You said that the kid was surrounded by his teammates when he started screaming?" Dean asked.

Hudson nodded. "Yes, and we've already questioned them. They were with him all day- they didn't see anything or notice anything bizarre."

Sam and Dean exchanged a quick look. "Do you mind if we question them? Just for the record?" Sam said, leaning into the desk a bit.

"Not at all. Excuse me, I'll go get the file," Hudson said, standing up and exiting the room. The moment she walked out, Sam immediately turned to Dean.

"Dibs."

Dean looked outraged. "What?! No way! You can't call dibs on her! Besides, I saw her first."

"You saw her at the same time I did."

"Well...you still can't call dibs."

"Just did."

"Nuh-uh."

"Did so!"

"Nuh-uh!"

"Shut up!"

"You shut up!"

"I still call dibs."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

Just then, Detective Hudson walked back into the room, effectively ending the juvenile conversation. She handed the file to Sam, and sat back down behind her desk. "Do you two think there was some sort of foul play going on here? We've all been assuming that this was a medical issue."

Dean shrugged. "Can't rule it out until we have all the facts. And we'll get down to the bottom of it. Don't you worry." He gave her his usual panty-dropping smile, but it didn't seem to work. She nodded once to indicate that she had heard, but that was all. No blushing, no coy tilt of the head, nothing. Dean's brow wrinkled in confusion. He wasn't used to having to work too hard for any female's attention. Maybe she was in to chicks. That was the only reasonable explanation in his mind as to why she was not succumbing to the charms of Dean Winchester.

Sam cleared his throat. "What time does the local high school let out?" he asked simply.

"Three o'clock," Hudson responded. Her beautiful eyes swung to the clock on the wall. "About a half hour from now. It's only a couple blocks from the station- you should have no trouble finding it." Hudson stood back up, effectively dismissing the two of them. Dean gave her the once over again, which she completely ignored. Yup. Had to be into chicks. Really the only reasonable explanation. Dean nodded to her, and walked out the door, with Sam right behind him.

"Agent Rudd- a moment," Hudson said suddenly as Sam walked out the door. He turned politely to her, and she stepped back from the doorway, indicating for him to come back into the office. Sam shot a quick look at Dean before walking back in, and Hudson plainly shut the door in Dean's face. He pursed his lips in annoyance and walked a few steps away. After an awkward three minutes of Dean getting checked out by one of the male cops who clearly was NOT into chicks, the door opened, and Sam exited. He turned back to Hudson with a smile, and another polite nod. And he got the coy head tilt from her. Dean's eyes about popped out of his head.

Sam began walking down towards the front door of the police station, and Dean actually had to jog a step to keep up. "Well?" he asked gruffly, half afraid of the answer. "What did she want?" Sam didn't speak. He simply held up a business card with a hand written number on it, and grinned at his older brother. Dean halted in shock.

"What the hell?!" he hissed. "How did you get her number? I thought for sure she was a lesbian."

"Well, she's not."

"Then how did my charm not work on her? How did you get the girl?"

"Simple. All I had to do was sit back and let you make an idiot out of yourself, and I come off looking like a knight in shining armor."

"I hate you."

*SPN SPN SPN*

Sam and Dean pulled into the faculty parking lot of the local high school. Dean was still slightly pissed at Sam for scooping the girl, so he was dragging a couple steps behind as they walked into the large brick building. The second they hit the hallways, the long-remembered scent of books, gym clothes, and teen pheromones hit their noses. They both recoiled, partially from the smell of high school, but partially from the memories it evoked. Dean shook his head. "Man, the kid is so lucky she's never gonna have to deal with this," he grumbled in a low voice.

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. There were some parts of high school that were okay. You know, when we actually got to stay in one place for longer than two weeks."

Dean stared at his brother like he had lobsters crawling out of his ears. "You mean there were good parts of school?"

Sam just rolled his eyes. "Well, some of us didn't spend every moment in between classes locked in the janitor's closet with the easiest girl."

"I resent that," Dean said, pulling an insulted face. "I sometimes had to work very hard to get those girls in there."

"You're hopeless."

"Hopelessly romantic."

"I'm gonna hurl."

"Great. That'll top off the rest of this delightful smell."

They walked into the principal's office, flashing their IDs. It was next to no trouble to get the kids that were eyewitnesses to Colin's death down to the office, where Sam and Dean could interrogate them. After about 3 kids, however, Sam was beginning to think that Detective Hudson had been right- that this may have been a medical case instead of a supernatural one. However, unwilling to let anything slide past them, Sam insisted that they interview the last kid. He flipped through the file, trying to find the kid's name.

"His name is...Brick Wilder." Sam said, then chuckled to himself. Dean stared at him.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"Brick. He's a football jock named Brick. Like the kid in 'Death of a Salesman'." Dean looked blank.

"Arthur Miller? One of the greatest classics of the theater?" Dean just shrugged, indicating he had never even heard of it.

"Do you ever pick up a book?"

"Does Hustler count?"

Just then, the door opened, and the principal ushered Brick in. The kid looked shaken already, and they hadn't said a word to him. Sam couldn't really blame him. Within twenty four hours, this kid had been questioned by the police, was now wanted for questioning by some FBI agents, not to mention watching one of his friends die by some freak accident right before his eyes. Sam tried to give the kid a calming, encouraging smile. He was a bigger kid, probably around Dean's height, with a solid, muscular build. His honey colored hair had been cut into a buzz- a popular look for this school, Sam noticed. He was still wearing his letterman jacket; his arms were folded over his chest, and one hand was gripping the blue leather sleeve, like it offered some security. Sam could see Brick was trying to remain stoic, but was having a hard time. He just really looked like he wanted to go home. Sam questioned his own judgment in pushing for this last interview, but decided to make it simple. He didn't expect anything else from this kid that the others hadn't already given them- he just needed to make sure.

"Hey Brick," he said in a quiet tone. "I'm Agent Rudd, this is Agent Johnson. We just want to ask you a few simple questions, if that's alright."

"I already told the police everything I know. Why do I need to talk to you guys?" Brick said.

"It's just a formality. You can give us the same answers you gave to the police, okay?" Sam answered. Brick just nodded once. "Okay then. Can you tell us about the events leading up to Colin's death?"

Brick inhaled shakily. "Yeah, sure. We were in homeroom together, nothing seemed weird. I mean, Colin said that he had this, like, strange ringing in his ears, but he listens to crap music as loud as he can all the time- we didn't think anything of it." Sam nodded- they had gotten pretty much the same response from the other kids. Brick continued. "So it was like third period or something, and we were just walking to our next class, when all of the sudden, Colin started screaming." Brick shook, still unnerved by the whole experience. "He- he put his hands over his ears. Man, we tried to talk to him, but...but he just kept screaming. He hit the floor, and blood started...like...squirting out of his eyes and stuff." Brick broke off, unable to keep talking as he relived the horror of that moment.

Dean suddenly butted in with, "Was it coming out of his ears too?" Sam turned to give his brother an annoyed look for not being more sensitive, which Dean shrugged off with a "what?" gesture. Brick just nodded in response to Dean's question, still not wanting to talk. Sam faced the boy again.

"Was there anything else unusual that happened? Anything at all?"

"Like what?"

"Like, did you notice any strange noises, cold spots, anything like that when you were walking down the hall?"

Brick shook his head. "No. I mean, he had been acting a bit weird since the day before, but it wasn't anything unusual."

Both Winchesters exchanged a quick look. Sam sat forward a little. "What happened the day before?"

Brick looked up to see both of their eyes locked intently on him. He swallowed hard and sat back. "Well, we went on this field trip the day before- it was like a whole class thing, you know? We do it every year."

"Where did you go?" Dean asked.

"The Museum of World History," Brick answered.

"And where is that?" Sam said.

"About an hour north of here. We go by bus. They take us every year, it's kind of stupid."

"So what caused Colin's attitude change after you all went to the museum?"

"I don't know, man."

"You sure you don't know?" Dean said, a little louder than normal.

Brick shifted guiltily. "Well- this time, there was a new exhibit. It was this Egyptian artifacts thing. We thought there'd be mummies and stuff, but there wasn't. It was just old, dusty crap."

Dean nodding knowingly. "Just like every other museum in the world."

Brick suddenly looked at Dean, finding a kindred spirit in those words. "Right? Why do they make us look at a pot that's been covered in mud for like the last million years? It's stupid."

Dean snorted a laugh. "Tell me about it."

Sam cleared his throat, trying to get them back on track. "Was there anything interesting at the exhibit? Anything at all?"

Brick began shifting nervously again. "Well- there was this one thing- it kinda looked like a bell. The lady who was doing the tour said it was the Bell of...somebody, I don't remember. One of those Egyptian dudes. But she also said it was cursed. Like, anyone who heard the ringing of the bell was cursed, or something."

"Did you try to ring it?" Dean said, suddenly all business and bad cop again. Brick cowered a bit at his tone.

"No, man. I don't mess with that crap. But Colin thought it was bogus. We snuck back into the room when everyone else had moved into another part of the museum to look at it again. He told me to dare him to touch it."

"Did you?"

"No! No way! But before I could stop him, he jumped right over the velvet rope thing and touched it. Man, it scared the crap outta me- I half expected those beetle things from "The Mummy" to crawl out of the floor and eat him or something. I mean, he just touched it- he didn't ring it."

"And nothing happened?"

"No. I mean, he got this weird look on his face, but then kinda shook his head, and that's when our teacher caught us." Brick made a face at admitting he'd gotten in trouble at the museum. Sam just gave Dean a knowing look- this was what they had been searching for. Now they had some place to start.

Sam stood up, and Dean followed suit. "Well, thanks for your time, Brick." He held out his hand. Brick took it and shook it once, but then stopped. He looked Sam right in the eye, and Sam could see the fear there.

"Man- that bell wasn't cursed, was it? Was that why Colin died?" he asked, in a shaky, low voice.

"No, cursed objects don't really exist," Sam lied through his teeth.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Later that evening, the boys returned to the motel with fast food bags full of dinner. Natalie had opened the door to the password of "RIP Bonham", and they were sitting at the small table, discussing the case with her.

"So you think it's like a cursed Egyptian artifact?" she asked, dragging a French fry through her ketchup before popping it into her mouth.

Sam nodded. "Yeah. He said it looked like a bell. Named after an Egyptian god, I'm guessing." He took a big bite of his chicken sandwich.

Dean was running his straw along the bottom of his nearly empty cup, slurping up the remains. Sam shot him a bitch face. "What?" he asked, nonplussed. Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's lack of table manners. Dean turned his attention to his daughter. "Think you can dig something up on that? HA! Dig! 'Cause it's an artifact! See what I did there?" He grinned cheekily, making Natalie giggle.

"Here we go," Sam said, sitting back in his chair and wadding up his sandwich wrapper.

Natalie gave her dad her heart stopping grin. "I think I can find something. But I have to warn you- It's probably a pyramid scheme." She gave her father a sideways grin.

"Tut Tut. You jest."

"I think you're in deNILE."

"You both are idiots," Sam said, swiping Dean's empty drink cup in his cleanup effort. Natalie and Dean laughed hysterically at each other for a minute, before calming down and sighing in tandem. Dean loved these casual, carefree moments. Sure, there was plenty to worry about- his kid was growing up out of a suitcase, they had jobs that threatened their lives at every turn, and if the collection agencies ever caught up with them for their credit card fraud, they were looking at fifteen life sentences, back to back. But in moments like this, the world seemed to balance itself. Dean tousled Natalie's hair as he walked away from the table. She patted it back into place, annoyed. She hated it when they did that, and they did it all the time. She turned to her uncle as she stuffed the last couple fries in her mouth.

"Did you check my homework yet?" she asked, chewing. He looked at her reproachingly.

"Don't talk with your mouth full," Sam scolded. Natalie chewed impatiently and swallowed, then repeated her question. "I'm almost done," he answered this time.

"Can I watch TV then?"

"If you got them all right, then sure you can." Sam sat back down at the table, her paper in his hand. She had gotten them all right except the second to last one. They spent a couple minutes at the table together, their heads bent down, looking at the paper, Sam teaching Natalie the correct way to translate and spell the word. Dean looked over at the pair of them, and smiled. It was ironic that out of the two of them, Dean had ended up with a kid. Not because of his amount of sexual activity, mind you, but because Dean had always secretly believed that Sam would make a much better dad than he ever would. Sam really had no idea how much Dean counted on him to help navigate the waters of having a daughter. Dean had finally accepted the fact that he would have done okay by himself- Natalie was an amazing kid. But he was still grateful that Sam was around. Sam loved Natalie like she was his own kid. They were a weird little family, but the three of them made a pretty awesome weird little family.

When the two of them finally finished the Latin, Natalie pushed away from the table, and came bouncing over to him. "What's on?" she asked.

"Did you finish all your homework?" Dean asked as a response.

"Yes, sir. What's on?" she repeated, not to be deterred. Dean chuckled, and flipped on the television, scrolling through the guide channel.

"Check it out, Sammy. Alien Versus Predator. Man, I haven't seen that in forever."

"Let's watch it!" Natalie said, jumping onto the couch beside her dad.

"You sure you can handle it, squirt?" His ten year old turned to him with a resounding bitch face.

"Dad. We hunt monsters for a living. Like there's anything in that movie that's going to give me nightmares."

He chuckled again as Sam dropped down on her other side. They got about half way through the movie, when things were really starting to heat up. At the sudden appearance of an alien bursting through a wall, Natalie jumped and let out a tiny shriek. Dean just laughed at her.

"I thought you said you could handle this. Don't be a wuss."

"I'm not a wuss. You're a wuss," she retorted with a smart aleck tone. Just then, another Alien jumped up on the screen, and she once again jumped a mile. Dean just chuckled.

"Come here, you wuss." He put his arm around her protectively, and she snuggled into his side. She didn't jump for the rest of the movie.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Later that night, in a town about an hour away, a young woman sat up in bed, straight out of a dead sleep. She couldn't hear anything but the ringing in her ears.


	37. Hell's Bells Part 2

**Here's Part 2 Of Hell's Bells! Happy Saturday! I love you, fabulous SPN Family!**

 **Thank you for the reviews, messages, and requests. I'll get to them all, I promise. Thanks for hanging in there with me. Hugs to all of you!**

 **Special shout out to Jenmm31 for beta-ing and being just awesome. :)**

 **Read, review, enjoy!**

 **A/N- This is Part 2 of a 3 Part Story. If you haven't, please go back and read the chapter before this, otherwise it ain't gonna make a lick of sense. In this story, Natalie is 10. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

Hell's Bells Part 2

The next morning, Dean awoke to a familiar clicking sound. Natalie was, of course, up before dawn, typing away on her laptop. He sleepily rolled his eyes. It had become a ritual with her. She was up first thing in the morning, already working on whatever case they had going. She was such a natural early riser that Dean had finally given up on trying to make her sleep in, and instead insisted that she get to bed at a decent hour. She didn't put up a fuss anymore like she used to, but she was forever trying to push bedtime back as far as she could, insisting that she didn't need sleep. Some personal favorite excuses from her younger days had been "I have to watch this TV show, otherwise I can't go to sleep", "If you make me sleep now, I'll just be up even earlier", and of course "I've forgotten how to sleep". Ah, the joys of raising a child.

Dean drug himself out of bed, deliberately smacking Sam's foot on his way past to the coffee pot. Sam startled awake, rubbed his eyes, and pulled himself upright. At the sight of his niece already working on the computer, he chuckled. Didn't that kid ever sleep? Sam made his way to the bathroom, while Dean poured himself a cup of the only reason to get up in the morning. He stumbled over to the table where Natalie had set up camp, and dropped heavily into the chair beside her.

"Morning," he managed to say around the coffee cup glued to his lips. It sounded more like an observation than a greeting. She greeted him back with the same, knowing it wasn't wise to say much more than that until the coffee hit his bloodstream. Dean sucked down the hot coffee as fast as he could, and once the glorious relief of caffeine hit, he shook his head once, and came to life.

"Find anything yet?"

"Oh, yeah," Natalie said, pushing the laptop over towards him so he could see. "The museum just got the Egyptian exhibit in two weeks ago. It's straight from The Valley of the Kings."

"Isn't that where King Tut was buried? Or mummied- or whatever?"

Natalie pointed a finger at him. "Yahtzee." Dean grinned, hearing his kid use his catchphrase. Man, she was so cool. Just like him. "These artifacts weren't specifically from Tut's tomb, but not all of the origins are known, including...the Bell of Osiris."

Sam emerged from the bathroom, drying his hands, just in time to catch the last part. "Bell of Osiris. God of the Underworld Osiris?"

Dean looked at his brother, a confused expression on his face. "Wait- I thought Hades was the God of the Underworld."

"Different names in different cultures," Sam explained, pouring himself a cup of coffee. "There's Yama, Shinto, Loki-"

"Crowley," Natalie growled out. Dean chuckled. Her abject hatred of the King of Hell had no bounds. Not that he minded, but it just tickled him that she saw red whenever his name was mentioned. Sam smirked as well, walking up behind them to look at the computer.

"So is that the cursed Bell that Brick mentioned?" he asked, taking a sip.

"Who's Brick?" Natalie questioned.

"Football jock we interviewed."

Natalie snorted a laugh. "Brick? Seriously? Like the guy from 'Death of a Salesman?"

"That's the one."

Natalie and Sam shared a laugh, while Dean rolled his eyes. "Alright, you dorks. It's too early to be this smart."

Natalie smiled, pulling her laptop back to her. "Anyways, the Bell was allegedly forged in the Underworld. Anytime Osiris wanted a particular soul, all he had to do was ring the bell, and within 24 hours, that soul would be in his possession."

"So it's like Hell's Bells," Dean said, suddenly interested. "Like the AC/DC song?"

"Kinda sounds like it," Sam said, trying to read the research that Natalie had up on the screen.

"Awesome!" Dean exclaimed. Two pairs of disbelieving eyes swung to him. He tried to backtrack. "Well...not awesome...but, come on. A case with a kick ass song attached to it? Eh?" He looked back and forth from his brother to his daughter, both of whom were still staring blankly at him. "Never mind," he growled into his coffee cup.

"Okay. Moving on," Natalie said. "Here's the tricky part," she continued. "Supposedly, the only way of reaping the soul was for the bell to be rung. The victim would hear the chiming of the bells for twenty four hours- then they were history."

"Except in this case, the kid said that they DIDN'T ring the bell," Dean spoke up.

"Exactly. So how did it "activate"- for lack of a better word- when no one rung it?" Natalie questioned.

"Well, Brick said that Colin did touch it. Maybe that was all that was needed," Sam mused.

"You thinking the thing was turned on by a touch?" Natalie questioned.

"Sometimes, that's all it takes," Dean said, his perverted grin plastered on.

"Gross."

"Sometimes when a cursed object is left alone for a long time, its power grows more potent," Sam explained. "If it had been sitting in a tomb, rotting away for thousands of years without reaping a soul, it's entirely possible that it had enough power built up to "activate" again, even just upon touch."

"Well, that's just messed up," Natalie quipped.

"Yeah, tell me about it," Dean agreed. "Does it say how to undo the curse?"

Sam reached over his niece and scrolled down the page, looking for the answer. "Doesn't look like it." He pulled the laptop away, despite Natalie's annoyed squawk. He brushed her grasping hands away as she grumbled about him stealing her stuff. He completely ignored her and typed in a couple options, quickly scrolling through them. "It's not a well known artifact, so there's not a lot of research on it."

"Looks like we're just going to have to see it for ourselves," Dean said, swallowing the last of his coffee.

"Can I go?" Natalie said, popping up excitedly. Before either of them could speak, she turned to Sam. "Come on- it's a museum. It'll be educational. Cultural. Broaden my young mind. All that crap."

Sam laughed. "And this has nothing to do with your psychotic love of playing tourist, I guess."

"Nothing at all. Purely academic," she said, unable to hide the grin.

"Alright, smarty pants. Wheels up in a half hour."

*SPN SPN SPN*

Two hours later, the Winchesters pulled up to the museum. As different from Quaker City as it could possibly be, the town "about an hour north" with the museum was a bustling metropolis. The building itself was a rather large, steel colored structure, with huge glass doors at the entrance. Natalie was awestruck- not just at the structure of the building, or the size, but by the fact that she was actually getting to go to a real museum instead of just a historic mansion that had a restless spirit problem. She could feel the pulse of energy from the pieces of history that were enclosed behind the glass doors. Dean put his hand on her shoulder as they passed through the entrance. She looked up at him curiously.

"Stay close," he said in a low voice. Natalie wrinkled her nose at being treated like a four year old, but Dean didn't care. He knew she would get enamored with something she saw and- not entirely on purpose- wander off to go exploring. Then it would be the game of Find-the-Kid instead of Find-the-Curse. They purchased a pass for the day and quickly signed up for the next tour, which was going to take place in about ten minutes. Sam and Natalie took the opportunity to look around the first room together, while Dean sat in the lobby. After warning Sam to keep an eye on his daughter, he found a very nice looking bench- perfect for him to pass the next boring ten minutes on. He looked all around him. The security in this place was unbelievable. There were cameras every four feet, it seems. He could also see the plates on the lower parts of the walls, indicating where they had laser sensors. As his hunter's eye took in all the info, he started noticing the art that was on the walls as well. There was a picture of some old dude in one of those curly white wigs, right over the center of the information desk. He tried to imagine what on earth could have possessed these founding fathers to wear the stupid wigs. They just looked like sissies to him.

He didn't understand the fascination this old crap held for his daughter or his brother. He'd rather take a blow to the head than get cultured. Instead, he began scouting for any hot young moms that may be here with their kids. After that, the time seemed to pass rather quickly. Before they knew it, all three Winchesters were joining the rest of the poor schmucks who seemed to be on the tour too. Dean looked around him, and saw another guy about his age that seemed to be there with his wife. She was snapping pictures like it was their kid's graduation. He nodded sympathetically to the man, who nodded sympathetically back.

Natalie bounded up to his side. "You are not going to BELIEVE the stuff that's here!" she whispered excitedly. He tried to give an enthusiastic grin back, but failed epically. She giggled, though, which brought a genuine smile to his face. "It's not going to be all bad. There's a whole room full of pirate crap," she said, her tone buzzed with energy. That made his eyebrows shoot up, but he was still skeptical.

"What- like old peg legs and parrot skeletons?"

"Nope. Like cannons and treasure."

"Now we're talking."

A younger woman stepped up to the group. Probably in her early thirties, her red hair was slicked back into a nice, professional looking bun. She introduced herself in a gentle, pleasant, but clearly rehearsed voice. "Hello, everyone. Welcome to the Museum of World History. My name is Amanda, and I'll be your tour guide today." Natalie turned and gave Dean a stink eye, which surprised him. He looked back at her, questioningly. He hadn't done anything- what was that glare about? She seemed to size him up for a second, then smiled and nodded her head, once. Dean puzzled to himself, wondering what had gotten under her skin. Before he could ask, though, Amanda was instructing the group to follow her. Dean made sure Natalie was within his periphery, and they fell in with the rest of the group. They traveled through dusty rooms, listening to her ramble on about this clay pot from Russia or that wooden chair from some country that sounded made up. Dean found himself wondering if he could actually fall asleep standing. After about 20 minutes of mind numbing facts, they entered the pirate room. Sam turned on Natalie right as they were coming through the glass doors.

"Don't touch anything," he preemptively scolded. She scowled and shot him her best bitch face, which he promptly ignored. Dean chuckled at her, but then Sam turned to him. "You either," he said. Dean looked shocked and then affronted for a moment. He turned to his daughter, and they shrugged in tandem, as if to say _what are ya gonna do?_ As this stuff actually had the potential to be cool, Dean tried to pay attention to their tour guide, who was standing by a massive cannon. Both Dean and Natalie's eyes lit up at the impressive hunk of iron.

"This was an actual cannon from the ship that was stolen by Lady Elizabeth Killigrew. She and her husband decided to steal the famous ship _The Marie of San Sebastian,_ instead of repairing it and returning it, as they were originally charged to do."

Natalie stood up on her tiptoes, craning around Sam to try to get a better look. Dean grinned- of course she was into this story. Chick Pirate who stole a freaking ship? Awesome. As for himself, the treasures and other artifacts that populated the room were plenty intriguing. He actually found himself listening, and more to his horror, _learning._ He shook his arms and his head, trying to get that ridiculous notion off of him. Learning was dumb. Learning was for dorks. Learning was for Sam.

Amanda lead them through a glass hallway into the next room, and all three of them perked up. This was what they had been waiting for. The room was littered with Egyptian artifacts on pedestals and podiums. As if someone flipped an invisible switch, all three of them instantly and silently slipped into hunter mode and began scanning the room, looking for the object. Sam was the first to find it, catching Dean's eye, and then alerting him to the bell's presence with a jerk of his head. Amanda was taking her dear, sweet time getting to that particular artifact, rambling on about this statue of a cat and that eye of a god, but she finally approached the object.

"And this is the Bell of Osiris. Legend has it that the bell was forged in the Underworld, and given to the god Osiris as a gift. Whenever he decided that a person's time on earth was over, he would ring the bell. The victim would then be dead within twenty four hours." She faltered a bit on her rehearsed dialogue at that point, but picked it right back up. Sam and Dean exchanged a quick look- she must have heard about the kid's death. Well, after the tour, they would definitely have a few questions for her. They moved on to the next room, and the next, and the next, until finally the tour was finished.

Dean heaved a sigh of relief- there wasn't enough coffee in the world to get him through that again. Amanda stood in the last room, politely smiling at her group, nodding her thanks when anyone smiled or said she had done a good job. Sam casually walked up to her.

"Um, excuse me, Amanda?" he said, faking hesitancy.

"Yes?" she said politely, turning to him.

"I was wondering- could you tell me a little more history on some of those Egyptian artifacts? My brother and I," he said, indicating Dean behind him, who was doing his best to look enthused, "-we're big history buffs, especially when it comes to Egypt."

"Absolutely!" she said, giving off her customer service smile, and leading them back towards the room where the new exhibit was. Sam stayed right beside her, and Dean and Natalie brought up the rear. "Have you all ever been to Egypt?"

"No," Sam said. "Bucket list, though."

"Oh, me too. I've always been interested in the pharaohs and Egyptian gods, ever since I was a little kid..." As Amanda and Sam began chatting about Egyptology, Dean slowed his walk down a bit, just enough so that Sam wouldn't notice. Natalie kept pace beside him, wondering what he was up to. He stopped, as did his kid. While still keeping an eye on Sam and the growing distance between the pair of them, he said out of the side of his mouth to her, "Wanna go into the pirate room and touch a bunch of stuff?"

Without missing a beat or turning her head she said, "Yes I do."

"Let's go." And they took off.

Meanwhile, Sam and Amanda had reached the Egyptian Exhibit. Now that the tour had ended, there was no one else in the room. They could take all the time they wanted to, examining the bell. Sam turned around to say something to Dean, but then saw that his brother and niece were nowhere in sight. Sam clenched his jaw and closed his eyes for a second, mentally berating himself for not making Dean walk in front of him. He turned his attention back to Amanda as they approached the Bell. Sam leaned in to it a bit to try to get a better look, see if there were any markings or hieroglyphics on it. As far as he could see, there was nothing. He stood back upright, annoyed at the lack of information.

"It looks so innocent, doesn't it?" Amanda said.

"Yeah. Yeah it does," Sam mused, lost in thought. "I mean- a bell that's supposed to literally ring in death? Geez."

"That's the scary part about it," Amanda said. "According to legend, once it started reaping souls, it didn't stop until it got what it wanted. There was no way to keep death from happening." She broke off and got quiet, sounding almost afraid. "Every toll of the bell brought you closer to death."

Sam looked at her. She was staring at the object like she expected it to start ringing at any moment. He cleared his throat, causing her to jump. "Sorry, sorry," she said breathlessly. "Got caught up in la- la land there for a second."

"It's no wonder. I mean, with that kid that died and all," Sam said. She looked at him blankly.

"What kid?" she asked curiously. Sam's eyes widened. Wait- she didn't know about the kid? Why was she looking so freaked out then?

"Yeah- one of the kids who was on the school field trip two days ago died yesterday, right around this time," Sam explained slowly. Amanda's face grew pale. "He was the kid who got caught touching the bell."

"Oh, yeah. I remember. I was the one who caught him," she said, almost to herself. She looked away, and appeared to have a hard time breathing. Suddenly, a loud crash came from the other room. Both Sam and Amanda looked at each other, then headed towards the noise. When they got to the pirate room, a not-surprising scene met Sam's eyes. On the floor was a gold jewel-encrusted goblet that had just toppled off a pedestal, undoubtedly touched by the two morons who were looking at it. Both Dean and Natalie were staring at the goblet, but the second they saw Sam, they pointed to each other in tandem.

"She did it," Dean said at the same time that Natalie said, "He did it." They did a double take at each other, and scowled at the other one in perfect unison. Dean was the first to recover. His eyes darted between the tour guide with the perplexed look on her face, and his brother with the smoke coming out of his nostrils. Dean cleared his throat awkwardly. He picked up the goblet, placing it carefully back on the stand.

"We just...um...it...ah...we're gonna...come on." He grabbed the back of Natalie's collar, and both of them booked it out of the room. Sam closed his eyes. How had he ended up raising two children? What had he done to deserve this? He turned to Amanda.

"I'm so sorry about that," he apologized, turning red from embarrassment. She almost chuckled, to his surprise.

"It's alright. It's not the first time, and it won't be the last. For all of the security they have on the actual building itself, the exhibits are surprisingly easy to touch."

"They have a lot of security around here?" Sam asked as they walked back to the room.

Amanda seemed to size him up briefly. "Are you planning on robbing the place?" she said jokingly.

He gave a charming chuckle. "I'm actually from the FBI- I'm assigned to the case of the kid who died," Sam lied, pulling out the badge, doing the usual flip and show before tucking it back into his jacket. "My brother and his kid were in town, so we decided to kill two birds with one stone while I investigated the case.

"I see," she said, absentmindedly, her attention captured once again by the bell. She didn't offer anything more than that, so eventually Sam cleared his throat to try to get her attention again.

"So you say, you caught the boys? Did you actually see one of them touching the bell?" he asked.

"Yes. The shorter one was over the velvet rope, with his hand on the bell. I grabbed his arm to pull him away, but it was like he didn't even register that I was there. He had this strange look on his face, and he kept shaking his head. After a moment, I finally got him over the rope. That's when he seemed to realize that I was there. I found one of the chaperones and delivered the boys to them."

"Did you notice anything weird in the room when Colin was touching the bell?"

"Weird like what?"

"Cold spots, strange sounds, that sort of thing?"

Amanda shook her head. "No- not...at that moment."

That got Sam's attention. "Have there been other strange things happening since then?" He took a half step in towards her, as if closing the gap between them could make her offer more information. He could see the indecision in her eyes. She obviously knew something.

"Well...yes...but..." she trailed off, clearly unsure about her thoughts.

"It's okay. Trust me- I've probably heard worse," Sam said, with a reassuring smile. Amanda smiled back, hesitantly, but then blurted her words out.

"I've...I've been hearing...chiming," she said, so faintly that Sam almost didn't catch it.

"Chiming?" Sam said, instantly on alert.

Amanda nodded. "Like...bells."

Sam's eyes grew wide. "Amanda- when did the chiming start?"

"Around this time, yesterday. Why?" Sam opened his mouth to answer, but he never got the chance to. Suddenly, Amanda covered her ears and doubled over. Her face contorted, and even though she didn't make a sound, it was obvious that she was in terrible pain.

"Whoa! Amanda? Amanda?!" Sam yelled desperately. She couldn't stand up straight. She didn't answer with words- instead, she started screaming.

"DEAN!" Sam shouted, praying his brother was still within earshot. Five seconds later, Dean came running through the glass hallway into the room, with Natalie hot on his heels. They both stopped in surprise at the sight of Amanda, doubled over herself, hands over her ears, screaming bloody murder.

"What happened?!" Dean roared.

"I don't know! She just started screaming!" Sam yelled back. Suddenly, Amanda's face jerked up. Blood began pouring through her fingers covering her ears, and began streaming out of her eye sockets, leaving horrible red rivers down her face. Dean turned to Natalie, who was looking terrified.

"Go get help!" he yelled at her. She snapped to attention at the sound of his voice, turned, and immediately went off running. Dean turned back to the scene, just in time to see Amanda collapse. Sam was close to her, and caught her before she could hit the floor. She was still screaming, and her blood was spattering everywhere, leaving angry red streaks across the priceless artifacts. Sam tried to gently lower her to the floor, but she was writhing so much he almost dropped her again. Dean rushed to his side, but there was nothing to be done. With a final twitch, another bubble of blood burst from Amanda's lips, and she laid still. Sam looked at Dean in horror. He laid her body on the floor, and stood up.

"Dude- what happened? Are you okay?" Dean asked, looking desperately into Sam's face.

But Sam didn't answer. He couldn't. He couldn't hear Dean. All he could hear was the ringing in his ears.


	38. Hell's Bells Part 3

**Good Morning! Hell's Bells Part 3, coming at you.**

 **Love, hugs, and pie to all of you. I can't do this without you.**

 **A/N- this is part 3 of a 3 part story. If you haven't already, please go back and read the previous two chapters, otherwise this ain't gonna make a lick of sense. In this story, Natalie is 10. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

"And that's when she stopped moving," Dean said to the officer who was taking their statement. He watched as the paramedics wheeled the remains of the poor woman outside. His eyes immediately went to the end of the room, where Natalie had been sitting, quietly, on a bench. He smiled- the kid was carefully observing the area, making mental notes of everything she could see. Of course, being only ten, the police weren't too anxious to have her wandering around the scene, but she was doing great staying out of the way and still working. He smiled with pride. She caught his eye, and gave him an encouraging smile. His heart warmed a bit to see it.

The officer didn't have any more questions for him, so Dean walked over to his daughter and sat down next to her on the bench. He nudged her side. "You okay?" he asked quietly. She nodded, but didn't say anything else. It wasn't like she hadn't seen death before- her father and her uncle were the Winchester Brothers, for heaven's sake. But it still was a lot for a ten year old to handle. He knew she would be embarrassed if he pushed the issue further, seeing as she clearly didn't want to talk about it right now, so he didn't say anything else. He just put a hand on her knee, trying to be consoling. He could feel her relax at his touch, which made him feel a little better at having to keep her here for the time being. He scanned the room, looking for Sam, who was still being questioned. Sam was trying to mop up Amanda's blood still covering him, with a towel that one of the paramedics had given him.

Dean's eyes narrowed, looking at his brother. Something was definitely up with him. He was acting even more fidgety than normal. Once, he stopped talking completely, seeming to lose his train of thought- very unlike Sam. After a shake of his head, he started speaking again, but this time, his eyes were darting around even more nervously than before. Finally, he stepped away from the police. He approached Dean and Natalie, looking ashen.

"Ready to go?" he said overzealously, given that he looked white as a sheet. Dean's eyebrows shot up. This was clearly the scene of the case. Why wouldn't Sam want to stick around and check it out? Before he could ask, however, Sam, anticipating the question, said quietly, "Dude- I'm covered in blood. All I want to do right now is go home and take a shower. Besides- the only eyewitnesses are us. And there's nothing more actually on the bell. Believe me, I looked. There's nothing else we can get from this place."

"Fair enough," Dean said. He patted Natalie's leg. "Come on, kiddo. Let's beat it."

*SPN SPN SPN*

Later that night, around ten, Natalie was sitting at the table, working on a self assigned report of the museum today. Dean had looked at her like she had two heads when she declared that she was doing homework that Sam hadn't given her. He had to ask why she was assigning herself extra work. She simply shrugged and said, "There was a lot of cool stuff at the museum. I want to remember as much as I can about it."

Dean shook his head and went for a beer. Sam rolled his eyes at his brother, then turned to his niece. "Let me know if you remember anything else about the Bell, okay?"

"Will do," she said, turning her attention back to her laptop. Sam walked over to the kitchen area, yanked open the fridge, and pulled out a beer himself. Dean was still standing there, leaning up against the counter. He watched as Sam violently twisted the top off his bottle, and proceeded to down half the contents in one gulp. Dean's eyes widened, watching Sam down the alcohol. He couldn't take it anymore.

"Dude. What's going on with you," Dean whispered to him. It wasn't a question, but Sam answered him with one.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, ever since we got back, you've been all kinds of cranky. You had a little thing for that tour guide chick or something?"

Sam turned away without looking at his brother. "Don't know what you're talking about." He took another swallow of beer. Dean sized him up for another moment, waiting to see if Sam was going to come clean. When it became obvious that he wasn't going to, Dean bobbed his eyebrows once, and turned to look at the clock. It was now a little past ten. He looked at Natalie, still typing away on her computer.

"Alright squirt, bed."

"Can't I just finish this first? Please?"

"You can finish it when you wake up in the ungodly hours of the morning that you do. Get a move on."

With a sigh, Natalie said, "Yes, sir." She saved her report, and closed the laptop. She snatched her pajamas and her toothbrush from her bag, and made her way into the bathroom. Once Dean heard the door shut, he turned to Sam again.

"Now that the kid's out of earshot, you wanna try this again?" he asked gruffly.

Sam just shot his brother a bitch face. "Dean- I'm fine. It's just been a big day, okay?"

"No bigger than normal."

"Easy for you to say."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Sam threw up his hands in frustration. "It means...it means that we still have a long way to go on this case. And no leads to go on. We don't know how to stop it, we don't know how to destroy it..."

"We don't know who the next victim will be," Dean said offhandedly. That made Sam stop short- a moment that didn't go unnoticed by his brother. Sam recovered in a moment, and took another swig of beer before answering.

"Yeah. Right. So I'm going to try to do some more research. You should get some shut eye. We need to be on our A-Game tomorrow." Sam looked like he was going to say more, but he suddenly pinched his lips together. He turned his face away, and shook his head, just once. Dean's brow furrowed, watching Sam. As Sam stopped shaking his head, Dean surreptiously looked at his watch. His eyes narrowed. At that moment, Natalie walked out of the bathroom, clad in her sweatpants and a tank top. Dean's attention focused on her.

"Alright. Need some shut eye before Researchapalooza tomorrow," he said to her. She dropped down heavily on the sofa with a grumble. She never liked sleeping, but knew it was a necessary evil. That didn't mean she didn't grumble and complain every time she was sent to bed. "I don't wanna hear it," he said, his tone surprisingly light and joking. "Besides, you're still in trouble from knocking over that goblet today at the museum."

She sat upright from her sofa bed, a mixture of outrage and amusement on her face. "I did NOT knock that thing over and you know it!"

Dean just pinched his lips together in mock shame, turned to Sam, and pointed to Natalie, then pointed to himself and shook his head, indicating that it was all her and he was completely innocent. Sam cracked a smile.

"It was so you!" she giggled upon seeing her father throw her under the bus.

"Can't prove it."

"I wasn't tall enough to reach it!"

"So you admit that you tried?"

To which Natalie responded by flinging a pillow at Dean's face. He caught it easily, and held it up as if to say _See? Evidence!_ Sam couldn't help but laugh at the two of them. Dean grinned and sauntered back to his giggling daughter, tossing the pillow back down on the sofa. He then leaned forward and kissed her forehead. "Hey," he said, looking in to her eyes.

She gave him her dazzling smile back. "I know. You too."

"I know." She lay back down, and pulled the covers over herself. Dean had to resist the urge to make sure the blankets were snug around her- a throw back to when she was younger. She was getting older now, and wouldn't exactly appreciate the feeling of being tucked in. Dean stared at her for a moment. It was odd. Before she had dropped into their lives, he had dreaded the idea of having to care for a kid. Even something as simple as tucking one in used to be terrifying to him. He was now surprised that he actually missed it, just a little. He smiled gently, then turned, and caught Sam staring at them. Sam had a bizarrely sad smile on his own face, something that made Dean do another double take. Before Dean could comment on it, Sam turned away, and opened his own laptop. Dean knew that Sam didn't want to talk, but it didn't stop him from being concerned about whatever was going on with his little brother. Sam spoke up, his eyes never leaving his computer.

"You should turn in too- I'm just going to work for a little while longer," Sam said casually. Dean, for once, chose not to argue. He kicked off his boots, grabbed his clothes, and made his way towards the bathroom.

A couple hours later, when both Dean and Natalie were sound asleep, Sam was still feverishly clicking away at his laptop, the icy blue electric glow of the laptop reflecting off his increasingly panicked face.

*SPN SPN SPN*

The next morning, Sam sat straight upright in bed. The ringing in his ears had woken him from a sound sleep. The bells were getting louder each time they chimed. After all his research last night, he knew what that meant. He was getting closer to his time being up. He had expected this. What he wasn't expecting, however, was Dean, sitting on his own bed, elbows on his knees, watching him.

Sam blinked a couple times, then stretched his eyes wide in an effort to wake up. "Hey," he said sleepily. "What's uh...what's up?"

"When did they start?" Dean asked.

"When did what start?"

"Sammy, don't even try it," Dean growled. Sam sighed, and dropped his head.

"Where's Natalie?" Sam said, looking around for her. He didn't want her hearing this. Dean jerked his head towards the bathroom.

"Taking a shower. Start talking."

"I heard the bells right after Amanda died," Sam confessed. Dean rolled his eyes heavenward and leaned back upon hearing the confirming words. This was what he had been afraid of. "I spent all night doing research, and I couldn't find anything, Dean. That's why I didn't want to tell you. Just in case I couldn't find anything." His eyes dropped to the carpet- he couldn't look at his brother. "There's no hope man. There's no way out of this."

To his immense surprise, Dean chuckled. Sam jerked his head up. What the hell could Dean possibly find funny right now? Dean looked right into Sam's eyes.

"Well, it's a damn good thing we've got a ten year old who is apparently better than both of us at...well, just about everything," Dean commented wryly. Sam's brows wrinkled in confusion. "Natalie did more research this morning before either of us was awake, and she found something."

Sam's mouth dropped open in disbelief. "Where the hell did she look?! I searched everything, every possible site and book I could."

Dean shook his head. "Do NOT ask me to explain how her brain works, okay? I don't have a damn clue. She found some site on ancient artifacts and...well...Yahtzee. But she figured out how the curse transfers. Check this out." Dean got up from the bed, and walked to the laptop. "Apparently the curse can transfer to someone else if they touch the person who's cursed while they're hearing the bells chime."

Sam exhaled loudly. "That's how Amanda got it from Colin."

"And how you got it from Amanda," Dean said in a low voice. "It's a good thing you didn't touch her ears."

"What?" Sam said, confused. Dean pointed to the highlighted section of the screen.

"If you touched her ears, you would have absorbed the curse at its current state," Dean said in a slightly strangled voice, not wanting to say what that actually would have meant. "Well, for once, you not touching a woman was a good thing."

"Dean..." Sam said slowly. "I could have saved her."

"Then you would have died," Dean said, in a dangerous don't-go-there voice.

"Dean, unless Natalie found some way to stop the curse, I'm dead anyways."

Dean opened his mouth like he was about to tear Sam a new one, but then took a breath and scrolled to a different part of the page. "It says the bell can be destroyed by like, some kind of...holy fire or something."

"Holy fire?" Sam said, disbelieving. "It can't be that easy."

"Why not?"

"It...that's just almost too...easy."

"You're seriously complaining because it's too EASY?"

"Dean- think about it. If it can be destroyed by holy fire- how come it's still around? Don't you think those ancient Egyptian priests would have worked that out for themselves?"

"Sammy, you wanna argue with the information that may save your life, or you wanna try to start a freaking fire?" Dean said, exasperated. Just then, they heard the shower turn off. Sam's eyes darted to the bathroom door, panicking.

"You didn't tell her, did you?" Sam asked, praying that Dean had showed some restraint for once.

"Of course I didn't tell her, dipshit," Dean growled. "No need to scare her when we know how to end this."

"Dean-" Sam began, about to argue that they DIDN'T know how to end this. Dean pointed a finger in Sam's face.

"This will work," Dean said, not to be argued with. Sam just shook his head. Dean pretended not to see it. Just then, Natalie came out, rubbing her wet hair with a towel.

"Morning, Uncle Sam!" she said brightly. "Did Dad tell you what I found?"

Sam put on his fake smile. "Yeah. Yeah, he did. Good job, Bug."

"Thank you, thank you," she said, pretending to take a bow. Even in the midst of this serious moment, Sam found himself chuckling at her antics. "So- we gonna go destroy that thing tonight?" she asked, tossing her towel under the motel bathroom sink.

"WE are not going. Sam and I are going to go take care of it, right now," Dean said, reaching for his boots. Natalie's face turned to outrage.

"But I found out how to destroy it!" she argued.

"Exactly. You did your part. Now we do ours."

"Dad!"

"Natalie." At that tone, she shut her mouth, not daring to say anymore. She didn't see what the big deal was- she had started plenty of fires; most of them on-purpose ones. She could easily handle something like this. But when he said her name like that, it was unwise to continue to argue with him. She pinched her lips together, and looked at Sam, imploringly. She was disappointed to find him shaking his head at her too.

"Sorry, Bug, I'm with your dad on this." Just in case things...went south...Sam didn't want to take the chance at having his niece there. She let out her usual dramatic sigh.

"Well, how are you planning on getting in?" she asked, pressing them to give her at least the details on the case. Dean shrugged.

"We'll waltz right in, just like we did yesterday."

"Um...it's Sunday. It's closed."

Dean looked patronizingly at his daughter. "Are you seriously questioning whether or not your uncle and I can break into a locked building?" He snorted and rolled his eyes. "Geez. And you're supposed to be the smart one."

"I am. That building is locked up tighter than Fort Knox, remember?"

Suddenly, Dean recalled all the security cameras, the laser sensors, even the iron bar doors that came down around the glass hallway doors. "We'll figure it out when we get there."

"Oooorrrrrrrr..." Natalie said, drawing out the word and looking impishly at her father. Dean sighed and took the bait.

"Or what."

"Or maybe you know someone who could possibly hack into their security system, disable the cameras and sensors, and who just may be small enough to shimmy through the vent to let you in to the building." Natalie shrugged nonchalantly, looking exactly like Dean did when he knew he was winning whatever battle was waging. Dean gritted his teeth. The kid had a point. Dammit.

"Alright. You can come. But you listen up. You do exactly what I tell you, and no more. Go where I tell you to go, stay where I tell you to stay. Got it?" he said sternly, pointing a finger in her face.

"Yes, sir!" she chirped. She then jumped onto the couch to start lacing her sneakers up. Dean and Sam exchanged a look, and had another one of their silent conversations.

 _Are you nuts?_ Sam thought at Dean, who shrugged.

 _Unless you've suddenly become Neo and can manipulate the Matrix, what other option do we have?_

 _I don't want her there. Just...in case._

 _Don't argue with me._

When it came to saving Sam, Dean would do whatever it took _._

*SPN SPN SPN*

A very speedy hour later, the Winchesters screeched to a halt outside of the museum. Natalie jumped out of the car and instantly got to work trying to remote-hack the security system from her laptop, which she had placed on the ground right behind the Impala. Dean walked around the car, keeping one eye on his watch, and one eye on his kid. They still had three hours before Sam's time was up, and Dean had no earthly clue as to how long it was going to take her to do all this hacking mumbo jumbo. He peered over her shoulder, trying to make sense of the crap on the screen, when she jerked the laptop away, annoyed.

"You're in my light," she said. Dean stepped to the side and tried to peer at the screen again. She let out an annoyed groan. "Oh my god. Dad. Just give me a minute." She yanked the laptop off the ground and stormed to the front of the car. Dean watched her go, surprised. She usually didn't have this much attitude. And he didn't like it. Sam walked up to him, having seen the entire exchange, and smiled a bit.

"Just give her a minute," he said soothingly to his big brother.

"If this is any indication of what her teen years are going to be like, then we're dropping her off at the orphanage when this is all over," Dean growled. Sam snorted a laugh and shook his head. Three minutes later, Natalie looked up at the building. She just stared at it for a solid thirty seconds. The boys didn't see any change, so they had no idea what she was looking at. Suddenly, she pointed to the front doors. They heard a triple beep, and she turned to them with a grin.

"Disarmed," she said proudly, and slammed her laptop closed. She opened her door to the Impala, tossed her computer in, then walked up to Dean. "See? Told you I just needed a minute." She tugged on his arm to get him to lower down, and she planted a quick peck on his cheek before skipping towards the back of the museum. Dean just stared after her for a moment, unable to comprehend her sudden attitude shift. _Mood swings,_ he thought. _Great. Two PMS-ing chicks in the family. Lucky me._

The Winchesters all snuck around to the back of the building, finding an air shaft about five feet off the ground. As Natalie had predicted, it was very small. But luckily, so was she. Dean pried the grate off, and Sam lifted her into the air shaft. In a second her sneakers disappeared into the duct work. Pretty soon they couldn't hear her moving through the vents anymore. Dean tried not to panic at the idea of his daughter getting herself trapped in there. She was a smart kid- hell, she had just remotely disabled a high tech alarm system from a cheap laptop. Surely she would be fine crawling through an air vent. However, the longer it took without her making reappearance, the more freaked out he became. His heart started racing and his palms started sweating as the minutes ticked by. Just when he had decided to run the Impala through the glass front doors to get in and rescue her, the fire escape door at the back of the building opened, and Natalie poked her head out.

"Yahtzee!" she said, pleased as punch. Dean just shook his head and grinned.

"Kid, when we're done with this, we are heading straight for Fort Knox." Natalie's eyes lit up at the idea of hacking into a government facility.

"Okay, one thing at a time," Sam said. He and Dean walked through the open door, holy oil jar in hand. The three of them quickly made their way towards the Egyptian Exhibit. And there it still was- just a seemingly innocent artifact on a plain pedestal. Sam exchanged a quick look with Dean- they still hadn't told Natalie that Sam was hearing the bells. If they could just destroy the bell, they would never need to. Dean read what was in Sam's eyes, and turned to his kid.

"Alright squirt. I want you to go sit on the bench by the door while Uncle Sam and I light this thing up," he said. He half expected her to protest, but she instead just nodded, and went to sit on the bench as instructed. _Huh. Maybe there was hope for her teenage years, after all_.

Sam and Dean walked towards the bell. Dean kept a watchful eye on his brother, waiting to see if there was any indication that Sam was hearing the chiming again. They still had about two and a half hours to go. Dean had to convince himself that they were fine- that Sam would be okay once they torched this thing. He quickly poured holy oil all over the bell, then pulled a book of matches out of his pocket. He struck them quickly, and tossed them at the bell. However, just before the matches reached the bell, they all suddenly extinguished. The smoking book dropped harmlessly to the ground. Dean was shocked- what the hell had just happened? He took out another book of matches, and tried again. This time, the matches were a good six inches away when they all blew out. He exchanged an incredulous look with his brother.

"Dude- that thing should look like the Human Torch right now. What's making it go 'Flame Off'?" Dean looked around to see if they were under a vent or something weird like that.

Sam shrugged. "No idea. Here." He produced a lighter from his own pocket, and walked towards the bell. He flicked the lighter.

And the world blew up.

Suddenly, there was a blast of energy from the bell. It was powerful enough to knock Dean back several yards, knocking him off his feet, landing hard on his back. Once he got his bearings and his breath back, he looked around behind him, panicking, for Natalie. She had been sitting up against the wall already, so the blast didn't knock her over- she seemed okay. She was breathing hard like she'd been winded, and she was staring at the bell in horror. Dean's head whipped around. The bell was now hovering over the pedestal where it had been sitting. It had an unholy blue aura around it, and the light from the aura was pulsing. He looked over, just in time to see Sam hit his knees as the pulsing light increased.

Dean scrambled up and ran towards his little brother. "SAMMY!" he roared. Sam just shook his head, and looked like he was in extreme pain. _No, no, no,_ Dean thought. _We're supposed to have another two hours._ He searched his pockets for another lighter- another match- anything. He came up with nothing. In desperation, he pulled out his revolver and shot at the bell, thinking that maybe he could destroy it like that. As the bullet passed through the blue aura surrounding the floating object, it turned to sand, sprinkling to the floor in a harmless pile. The bell didn't want to be destroyed- and the damn thing was fighting back- taking Sam with it.

Dean tried to think of what Natalie had found on the website- how else could someone be kept from falling prey to the curse? Dean's head shot up as he remembered. The curse could be transferred...and he had an impossible decision to make.

He looked over to see Natalie staring horrified at Sam, who was still crouched on the ground. In a flash, everything that had happened with her for her entire life raced through his mind in a split second. Her birth, her first steps, her first tantrum, the time he taught her how to pull a prank, fixing her scraped knee that time she fell in the parking lot, teaching her how to shoot, everything. And he suddenly realized- the last ten years had been the happiest of his life. How could never have seen that before now? He had started to feel complete- like a whole person again. Like a worthwhile person again. How could he leave her? How could he leave the best thing that had ever happened to him?

And then he looked at his little brother, and everything that had happened with Sam's life raced through his mind in another heart squeezing second. He was there for Sam's first steps, too. The time they carved their initials into the Impala's interior. The time they snuck into that bar underage when Dean taught Sam how to be a wingman. Sam sacrificing himself by jumping into the Cage. And a promise. A promise to always watch out for Sammy. To always take care of his little brother. How was he supposed to break that promise?

A third scenario took the forefront of his spinning mind. A memory from two days ago. Sam and Natalie, sitting together, working on homework. And he remembered that Sam was there for all the sleepless nights with a kid who just didn't want to sleep. For the time she got lost in the hardware store, and Sam was the one who kept it together- not him. He was there when she got sick. Dean remembered all the times he had the secret thought that Sam would have made a better father than him.

The choice was easy, when you thought of it like that.

Dean tore over towards Natalie. He grabbed her by the front of the shirt, and dragged her towards the glass hallway. Just then, Sam started screaming. That only doubled Dean's resolve. He pushed Natalie into the glass hallway. She stumbled back, surprised- what the hell was he doing? She regained her footing just in time to see Dean shut the glass doors to the room. He grabbed an artifact next to the door- a long, jewel encrusted scepter that had undoubtedly belonged to a pharaoh, and jammed it between the door handles, essentially locking her in the small hallway. He then looked directly at her, and seemed to freeze for a moment. She ran up to the glass door. He put his palm on the door, low enough so she could reach it. Even though she had no idea what was happening, the adrenaline in her system made her mimic his actions. She pressed her tiny hand to the glass door, right where his was. He looked into her wide green eyes.

"I love you," he said.

"I know," she said, still confused. With the most bravery he ever had to summon in his life, he turned away from her and walked towards Sam. Natalie was shocked to see the blood starting to trickle down Sam's face from his ears and eyes. Just like Amanda's...

And it all came together for her. Sam was hearing the bells. He was going to die next. Unless the curse got transferred. She gasped, and smacked her fist against the window, crying out "No!", just as Dean clapped his hands on either side of Sam's head. Sam's screaming stopped. And Dean's face contorted in pain.

Natalie began furiously pounding on the glass door, throwing her weight against it, but it was no use. The door wasn't budging. She stopped her fruitless struggle for a moment, watching her father and her uncle in sheer horror. Dean's face was twisting in excruciating pain, but he was keeping his hands over Sam's ears. Sam recovered just enough to realize what was happening. He weakly grasped Dean's wrists, trying to pull them off of his ears.

"NO! DEAN, NO!" Sam yelled, trying desperately to remove Dean's locked hands. Dean gritted his teeth against the pain, just as streams of blood began pouring from his eyes.

"Take...care of ...her...Sammy," Dean managed to choke out, before the pain rendered him unable to talk. Sam was still too weak to do more than feebly pull at Dean's wrists.

As this horrific scene played out in front of her, Natalie began throwing herself at the door again, not even sure what she would do to stop the curse if she did manage to break out of the glass prison. As the screams of her father filled her ears, it was like being trapped in a nightmare. She was helpless. She was hopeless. All of the things she still needed Dean for were racing through her mind. She couldn't lose him. She thought about all the times that she had worried about him. All the times she hoped he'd come home safe. All the times she'd sent up silent prayers to whoever might be listening to watch over her father and her uncle, and bring them back home, both alive. All those prayers were about to be answered with a resounding "No".

Prayers...

Suddenly, desperately, Natalie screamed a name at the top of her lungs. She screamed it so loud she thought her vocal cords might shred, or that she may blow out the glass walls surrounding her.

"CASTIEL!"

A flash of blinding white light filled her eyes. This time, it did knock her off her feet. She blindly scrambled, trying to feel for the glass wall in front of her to orient herself. When the light subsided enough for her to see, she looked at the two men that had been in the center of the room. There were now three men in the center of the room. Castiel was standing behind Dean, his hands clasped on either side of Dean's head. The white light emanating from the angel seemed to be warring with the blue light emanating from the bell. Dean's face was still slick with red blood, but it was no longer contorted with pain. Castiel threw his head back and opened his mouth. Suddenly, the blue light that had been pulsing off the bell came shooting straight out of his upturned mouth, through the ceiling. When the light no longer poured from his mouth, the bell exploded, sending shards of metal flying through the room. Then all was silence.

Dean gasped, catching his breath, his hands still tight on Sam's face. He shook his little brother once. "Sammy! You okay?!" he said hoarsely. Sam gulped and nodded, still barely able to speak. Castiel released his hands from either side of Dean's head, and stumbled back. He slumped over, his hands on his thighs. Dean turned around, and weakly reached out to the angel.

"Cas?" he said, his own voice still raw from screaming. Cas just nodded to him that he was alright, and stumbled towards the glass door. He pulled the scepter out of the handles and threw the doors open. Natalie raced forward and grabbed his trench coat in her small hands, and Cas pulled her in to him. She buried her face in his stomach. She didn't want him to see the tears that were streaming down her own face. He wrapped his arms around the child, comforting her.

"Thank you," she finally whispered. That was as much as she could trust herself to say. Cas pulled her away from him, and leaned down. He took her face in his hands.

"Always," he said simply. "Now go see to your father." That was all the permission she needed. Natalie raced across the floor littered with metal debris and blood, and threw herself into Dean's waiting arms. He was still weak enough from the curse that the force of her body knocked him back, and they ended up on the ground together. As much as she wanted to be brave and tough just like her dad, she couldn't help it. She burst into full blown tears, not even bothering to contain her sobs. Dean pushed them both to an upright sitting position, with her on his lap. Her arms were tightly wound around his neck, and she was crying into his shoulder. He wrapped his arms as tight as he could around his little angel, putting his hand on the back on her head, keeping her pressed into his shoulder, letting her cry it all out, keeping her safe in his arms.

"I'm so sorry, Baby Girl. I'm so sorry," he kept repeating, whispering into her ear as he rocked her. Every thought and feeling he had about leaving her was warring to escape from him in a flood of emotion, but he locked it down, choosing to give all his comfort to her instead. He slowly started to unwind from the tense moment as he continued to hold her, feeling her desperation as she clung to him. Her solidity and warmth breathed life and wellness back into him, and he in turn gave it back to her, just by holding her. Finally, when her torrential tears had slowed down, she picked her head up and looked him in the eye.

"Don't be sorry. You saved Uncle Sam," she said, her own voice raw and shredded. "That's what we do. I'm just glad you're safe too." She turned and reached a hand out to Sam, who scooted closer to them, and began rubbing her on her back, trying to help her calm down. "Are you okay?" she whispered to Sam. He just nodded and continued rubbing her back. She exhaled in relief, and then shot him a bitch face.

"Next time, tell me, okay?" she glared at Sam, who chuckled at her. She grinned again, knowing from Sam's laugh that he was really okay, and she squeezed his hand. "I'm glad Dad saved you."

"And you saved me too, squirt," Dean said, gently wiping some of her tears away.

Natalie sniffed and then giggled. "Well, technically Cas saved you," she joked, breaking the tension in the room.

Despite the blood on his face, Dean was still able to pull off his cocky grin. "Ah, he's saved me before. I'm sure he'll be happy to let you claim this one." Natalie leaned back and saw Castiel stumbling back towards them. He collapsed on the floor next to Dean, looking at the girl.

"I would appreciate you all trying to stay out of trouble enough so no one has to save anyone," the angel said, dryly.

"Aw, come on Cas. What's the fun in that?" Natalie said, still sniffing, but with her own smile plastered on.

"Now, that's my girl," Dean said, pulling her into his chest again. Sam clapped his brother on the shoulder, and Cas reached out, touching Natalie's head. They all just sat there, taking in the moment. They lost track of how long the four of them stayed there, just holding on tight to the reason they all kept holding on- each other.

 **Please read and review, and keep those requests coming in! Love you guys!**


	39. A Jedi Hunter's Proper Burial

**Hey hey gorgeous SPN Family! How are you doing today? How are you liking season 12?**

 **Here's another installment for you. This isn't a requested story, but one that I was inspired to write. I needed a little fluff after the drama of the last story, ha ha. I'm going to be getting back to requests soon- I've got several requests in the works, and they're going to be coming your way soon! If you will be patient with me, I promise I will give you your stories. If you've requested something, please know it IS in the works- it just takes me a very long time to write them. Keep them coming! I love hearing from you all!**

 **Special thanks to Jenmm31- best beta ever. She just published the next chapter of "Growing Up, Winchester Style", and it's freaking fantastic. Go check her out!**

 **You guys are my heart. Thank you for everything. Thank you for sticking with me. I can't tell you what it means to me. Love and hugs to you all.**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is 8. Please see Profile Page for Disclaimer.**

"Hey Dad- can you take a look at my light saber?"

Not the weirdest sentence he had ever heard from his daughter, but definitely up there. Dean swung around from the kitchen table when he'd been working on his laptop, looking for a new case. They'd just pulled into Bobby's late last night, fresh off their latest case. Natalie had been thrilled to get back, mostly to get to her toys that Dean and Sam wouldn't let her take on the road. As always, she had gone right for her purple light saber toy. She would have staged a huge Jedi battle in the middle of her room, but it was one o clock in the morning by that time. Dean had all but threatened to feed her to the buzzards if she didn't go to sleep right then and there.

The next morning, however, they were all greeted with the loud thumps of her shoes on the stairs and the sound effects of her purple toy light saber. She had asked for it as a gift on her sixth birthday, and Uncle Sam had delivered. She had gotten rather rambunctious a couple times while she was playing in motel rooms- most notably that time in Phoenix-and it got banned from future road trips. It was the first thing she dove for as soon as they got home, still being one of her favorite toys. She had been at it all morning, attacking any and all evil Star Wars villains that she could dream up that were apparently invading the house. After the first hour of the morning battle, Bobby had finally rolled his eyes and gone back upstairs to take a nap. Sam, under the pretense of cleaning the car, escaped the young Jedi's quest as well. Dean, however, didn't seem too bothered by her antics, and had been consistently working, looking for a new case, while the rebel attack continued all around the place.

Upon hearing her request, Dean reached out his hands for the toy. Natalie handed it to him, an anxious look in her eye. "What's wrong with it?" Dean asked, twisting the hilt around to look at it.

"I dunno. It just stopped working," she said.

"When was the last time you changed the batteries?"

"When it stopped working a couple minutes ago." Well, that made sense. Dean had wondered why she'd suddenly raced into the kitchen, searching through the junk drawer a moment ago. She must have been searching for some double A's. "It's not the batteries," she pressed, appearing to know.

"Maybe the light bulb thingy is burnt out."

"How do we fix that?" Natalie asked, assuming, as she always did, that Dean knew everything. Dean, who was far from knowing how to get to the light bulb thingy, didn't want to change his daughter's assumption. He schooled his face into a look that said _Yeah, I totally know what I'm doing,_ and began searching the light saber, trying to find a button or a latch or something on the damn thing to pop open and see if it would give him a clue. When he couldn't find anything, he tried twisting the purple plastic blade part away from the hilt. It didn't budge an inch. He looked up to see his eight year old's large green eyes watching him incessantly, and he gulped, not wanting to fail her. Finally, he did what he did best- he yanked the damn thing apart. Natalie's eyebrows shot into her hairline in surprise, but she leaned forward, anxious to see if they could find the light bulb. Sure enough, it was there in the base of the toy. Dean unscrewed it, but it looked fine. No burn marks or broken filament. He gently shook it, and there was no rattling noise to indicate that the tiny bulb had blown. He pinched his lips together. Well, that was the end of his ideas.

He twisted the purple blade back onto the base, and handed it back to the kid. "Sorry, squirt, no idea. Why don't you ask Bobby?" Natalie looked at Dean like he was an idiot.

"Because he'll look at me like I'm an idiot," she said grumpily. Dean couldn't help but smirk at the irony of the moment. Natalie continued her explanation of why she couldn't ask Bobby. "He'd say something like 'What am I, Santa? I don't know how to fix toys,'" she said, doing her best Bobby impression. Dean grinned- she was getting good at that particular impression. Finally, he had to admit to her that he was clueless.

"Sorry, kiddo, don't know what to tell you," he said. Just then, Sam came inside, heading towards the fridge for a bottle of water. He was intercepted by the eight year old Jedi.

"Uncle Sam, can you look at my light saber please?" she asked, holding the toy out to him.

"In one second, Bug," he said, pulling out a bottle, and chugging half its contents in one gulp. Natalie waited patiently for him to at least swallow before holding the toy out to him again. He wiped the sweat off his forehead, and held the cold bottle to the back of his neck. He looked down, frowning at the little girl. "What happened?" he asked, looking at her quizzically.

"My light saber won't work," she explained again, frustrated. Sam plucked it out of her hands, and started to examine it. "We already changed the batteries, and Dad said the light bulb wasn't bad," she said anxiously, with the air of a concerned parent explaining to a doctor what was wrong with her child. Sam quickly met Dean's eye, and he knew they were both thinking the same thing. The toy had simply given out. Sam exhaled with a whoosh. That light saber was one of Natalie's favorite toys. This wasn't going to be pretty.

Sam gently handed it back to his niece, who was looking at him with wide, wondering eyes. Why wasn't Uncle Sam fixing it, or at least offering a solution? Before she could ask, however, Sam spoke up.

"Bug, I think your light saber has had its final battle," he said quietly. Natalie looked down at her favorite toy, then back up at Sam.

"You mean we can't fix it?" she asked, a touch of sadness in her voice. That sadness did both Sam and Dean in immediately. Neither brother could stand to see Natalie hurt or upset. Dean stood up from the table and walked over to her, his hands shoved in his pants pockets.

"We can get you another one, kiddo," he offered, knowing how much she loved it. Natalie turned her focus to him. He could see the dismay in her green eyes, and his heart twisted, wanting to make it better for his baby girl. Natalie, however, was shaking her head despondently.

"But it won't be THIS one," she explained, looking sadly at the saber. "This is the special one that you got me for my birthday, Uncle Sam." At that, she turned her face towards her Uncle, whose heart was breaking almost as much as her father's was.

"I know, sweetheart. But that's the way these things go. Toys don't last forever. And I think this one has lived a very long and full life," Sam said, recalling some of her more epic battles- namely the time she managed to trash that motel room in Phoenix with it in the grand total of five minutes that he and Dean had left her alone once. Natalie was clearly thinking along those lines too. Her face became very serious as she pondered what Sam said.

"You're right. If my light saber is dead, then we should bury it."

Dean wasn't expecting that. He shook his head, scrunching up his eyes. "We should do what now?" he said, thinking that there was no way he had actually heard her.

Natalie turned to him, a very serious expression on her face. Dean knew that look meant business. "We should bury it. No- actually, you know what we should do?" she said suddenly, her mind changing rapidly as it was wont to do.

"What?"

"My light saber needs to go out in style." All of the sudden, a wild, manic gleam appeared in her eye. Dean knew that look all too well.

"Hang on there, you little monkey. What are you thinking?" he asked warily, praying it wasn't what he thought it was.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Later that night, Sam was heading out the back door, pulling his coat on and gathering supplies from the kitchen. He was shaking his head, as he had been doing since the moment he heard the wild plan that his niece had concocted. He walked out the door, and saw his brother standing, watching Natalie. She was working diligently, with Dean just standing there, watching her. Sam walked right up next to his brother.

"Dude- you can't seriously be thinking of letting her do this."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Sam, for the last time- this is happening. Let it go, man."

"You're actually going to let her burn her light saber as a burial?!"

"No." When he heard that, Sam sighed with relief. It was short-lived, however. "I'm going to let her SALT and burn it as a burial."

"Dean- that's insane."

"Hey- come on. You're the one who always says that she's gotta 'work things out in her own way' and that we shouldn't 'stifle her creative nature' and all that Dr. Phil bullshit. She wants to give her favorite toy the proper send off."

"Yeah, but letting her play with fire?!"

"I am not letting her play with fire, you giant girl. I'm going to be here, supervising."

"You know that burning plastic is bad for the environment."

"You can't honestly tell me that you think a little girl burning one toy is gonna create a new hole in the ozone."

"Well, no, but..."

"Then shut your pie hole about it."

Sam huffed, frustrated, but he had to try once more. "That thing's got all kinds of electrical parts to it. We can't just burn it- we'll blow up the house."

Dean turned to Sam, his own expression of frustration across his face. "Seriously? Seriously Sam? You really think that I didn't think of that already?"

Sam looked a little sheepish. "Well-" and he trailed off. Dean pinched his lips together.

"Of course I thought of that, dumb ass. I made her give it to me, and I gutted the thing. It's just a freaking plastic shell, alright? Take the stick out of your ass, why don't you?"

Sam gave Dean his full on bitch face, and hefted the small fire extinguisher he had brought with him up so Dean could see it. "Well, I'm not taking chances."

"Fine, you sissy." Dean walked away from his daughter, muttering under his breath something about "freaking mother hen". He walked up next to his daughter. Natalie had been working on the funeral pyre all afternoon, carefully piling logs and sticks on top of each other. Dean had offered to help, but she had wanted to do it by herself. As he approached her, she heard him coming, and turned around. He could still see the touch of sadness in her eyes, even in the darkening night. When he reached her, he put his arm around her.

"How you doing, kiddo?" he asked gruffly, but gently. She just shrugged, and leaned her head into him. He rubbed her arm with the hand that was cuddling her in. "I know, it sucks. I remember once, when I was about your age, I left a set of Legos behind in a motel. There was no way that my Dad was going to go back and get them, so I didn't even ask." Man alive, Dean had been so mad at himself when he realized that he had left those blocks behind. He still remembered the anger and upset feelings, but of course, had shoved them down, even as a child. "I was really upset that I had forgotten those Legos. But you know what?" he asked her, looking down into her face. She turned her soft green eyes to his bright green eyes, wondering what he was going to say. "I still remember all the cool things that I built with those Legos, man. That never leaves you."

Natalie thought about what Dean said for a moment, looking down at the pyre. When she turned her face back towards his, she gave him her thousand watt smile, which always made his heart swell. "We did have some pretty epic battles," she said with a grin.

"Hell yeah, you did. Remember that motel room you destroyed with that thing?"

"Yup," she said, giggling, clearly enjoying the memory more than Dean or Sam ever would. "And you started teaching me how to bo fight with that saber."

"If that thing was real, you would've taken my arm off by now," he said playfully, teasing her. That made her laugh for real, and that was the song Dean had needed to hear. She reached out and patted the hilt of the saber, now resting on top of the unlit pyre.

"Well, that's why I need to send this off in the proper way. A Jedi-slash-hunter's funeral. I mean, hunters get salted and burned, and even Vader was burned after he died." Father and Daughter grinned identically at each other. The fact that Darth Vader had been given a hunter's funeral always made them smile in tandem. Dean squeezed her into him again, once.

"Alright. You ready to do this thing?" he asked.

Natalie looked around. "Is Pops coming?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here," came the gruff voice from the porch. Grumbling, Bobby made his way down the stairs. He stopped next to Sam. "How the hell does she manage to talk us into these damn fool things?" he muttered. Sam just shrugged. Hell if he knew. Dean produced a lighter from his pocket, but Natalie quickly put her hand on his arm.

"Wait a minute," she said, looking around as if she expected another person.

"Why? What do you- DAMMIT CAS!" Dean roared as the angel appeared, directly behind his daughter, causing him to jump. He pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled angrily. "Cas. Ten years, man. I've been asking you to learn the meaning of personal space for ten years."

Castiel blinked blankly at him, like he always did. Dean just threw up his hands in frustration. "What are you doing here, Cas?"

"Natalie wanted me here," he explained in his gravelly voice. He turned his attention to the child, who was beaming up at him. "Hello, Natalie."

"Hi, Cas. Thanks for coming."

"It's my pleasure. I'm sorry for your loss. My condolences," he said quietly, folding his hands together in front of him like he was at a real funeral. Natalie seemed to appreciate the gesture, giving him a big smile.

"It's okay," she said, then turned her attention back to the funeral pyre she had created. Dean shook his head. Of course she would want Cas here, too. He still felt a little silly, going through this entire thing, but this was his kid he was talking about. He'd walk the world over to get her the blade of grass that she wanted. She had all four of them wrapped so tightly around her little fingers that of course they would all be attending a funeral for a light saber. Dean focused, and tuned into his daughter, who had turned back to the group.

"Thank you all for coming," she said solemnly.

"Like we had a damn choice," Bobby grumbled, loud enough for all to hear. Natalie's eyes narrowed, and she turned her bitch face on Bobby, who actually wilted a bit under her glare. Damn, she was getting good at that. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Sorry," he mumbled. Natalie's face smoothed out, and she continued.

"As you all know, today, my beloved light saber entered into another realm. A realm where it shall become more powerful than anyone can possibly imagine," she said, quoting Obi Wan Kenobi.

Cas leaned over towards Dean and whispered. "I don't understand. Is the light saber going to become a sentient being?"

"No, Cas. Shh," Dean hissed, scolding the angel, who fell silent.

"I loved this toy, mostly because my favorite uncle in the whole world gave it to me." At this, Natalie looked at Sam and beamed. Sam returned the smile gently.

"He's her only uncle. How can he be her favorite?"

"Cas. Seriously. Shut it."

"So that being said, it deserves a proper send off. It deserves to die with dignity. And I can think of no better way that to give it a Jedi Hunter's burial." Natalie turned back towards the light saber on top of the pyre, her speech completed. She pulled a small salt shaker out of her pocket, popped open the top, and began pouring the salt all over the toy.

"Is this some strange human ritual that I don't know about? To salt and burn a beloved toy?"

"Cas. No. This is just...Natalie just wanted to do it this way, okay? Just roll with it, man."

Long Pause.

"Alright. I shall...roll with it."

"THANK you," the exasperated father said, closing his eyes in relief. He opened them again, just in time to see Natalie stepping towards him. He produced a small bottle of lighter fluid and a Zippo from his pocket. She held out her hand, her face lighting up.

"Can I do it?" she asked, a trace of excitement in her voice. Dean handed the container of fluid over.

"Be careful," he cautioned. Natalie took the lighter fluid, and carefully began pouring it on the pyre. Sam uttered a bizarre guttural sound at Dean that clearly meant "Are you out of your mind?!" which Dean ignored. He was watching her like a hawk, making sure she didn't accidentally drip fluid on her sleeves or shoes or anything. She did it perfectly, and Dean smiled, ever the proud papa. She held out her hand for the lighter. He held out his hand first, one eyebrow raised. She put the bottle of lighter fluid into his hand first with a bit of an eye roll. Once he had pocketed the container, then he handed her the lighter. "Be careful," he commanded again, keeping a better eye on this part. Natalie expertly flicked the lighter on, then quickly dropped it onto the pyre, and stepped back, just like Dean had taught her. They all walked backwards from the fuel-soaked pile as it caught fire spectacularly.

Natalie stood up on her tiptoes, watching the plastic curdle and melt in the flames. She gulped, and turned to Cas. "I'm really glad you're here," she said quietly to him. He put a comforting arm around her.

"Of course. I'm glad to be here with you. I am rolling with this," he said, thinking that those words would comfort her. She was too used to Cas's bizarre take on everything to be thrown by the statement. She reached up and squeezed the hand that was gripping her shoulder. She gently stepped away from Cas and back to Dean, putting her back to his front. He wound both his arms over her torso, pulling her close to him. She reached up, cupping his warm arms with her little hands, and leaning her head to the side again, grateful for the support he was giving her just by holding her. She was getting to be too much like him. She would clamp down on emotions, feeling that they were stupid or shouldn't be shown. But because she was so like him, Dean could read her like a book. He knew when she needed a little something extra, and his touch had always been soothing to her. Even though she'd never verbally ask for it, she craved it now. Dean leaned down and dropped a kiss on top of her head.

In this middle of this sweet, gentle moment, Sam had a horrible thought. He turned to Dean, terror on his face. "Dude- you said you got all the wiring out. Did you get the batteries out of the battery compartment?"

Dean turned to Sam, a look of genuine fright on his face. Just as Sam was about to pull the pin on the fire extinguisher, Dean rolled his eyes and snorted. "Of course, dill weed. I got the batteries out. How stupid do you-"

He didn't get to finish the sentence. All of the sudden, the toy on top of the burning pyre gave an ear splitting BANG! and began to emit all kinds of sparks and snaps as a giant mushroom cloud of fire erupted from it. Dean automatically reached down, gripping Natalie into his chest, and jumped back as far as he could, and the other followed suit.

"What the hell, Dean?! I thought you said you got all the dangerous stuff out of that thing?!" Sam yelled at his brother. Dean was just staring at the pyre, at a loss for words.

"I did! I gutted the hell out of that thing!"

"Well, clearly you missed something, ya idjit!"

"No I didn't!"

"Yeah, Dean, ya did."

"I did not!"

"He didn't." At the words from the child, Sam, Dean, and Bobby stopped arguing. Natalie was still pressed into Dean's chest, her feet dangling in the air. She turned her head so she could see all the men. "I filled it with fireworks."

"You did WHAT?!" All three of them yelled at the exact same time. Dean almost dropped her in surprise. Cas, who had watched the entire exchange in bemusement, spoke up.

"She said that she filled it with fireworks. Were you not listening?" he said, trying to be helpful. Dean turned his evil eye on the angel.

"Yes, Cas, we heard her-"

"Then why did you ask what she did? She just told you."

"Shut up." Dean turned Natalie around to face him. "Why the hell did you fill that thing with fireworks?"

"I wanted it to go out with a bang," she said innocently.

"That seems like a rather efficient way to do it," Cas added thoughtfully. Dean just pointed a warning finger in Cas's face. He took the hint, clamping his lips shut. Natalie wasn't done with her explanation, however.

"Also, there are fireworks at the end of 'Return of the Jedi', so I wanted fireworks too. I told you, it needed to go out in style."

"Where the hell did you find fireworks, Bug?" Sam asked, now that his lungs had started working and he could breathe again. She turned her face towards his and answered matter of factly.

"In the shed."

"I keep that shed locked at all times, missy," Bobby said. "How did you manage to get in?" To that, Natalie actually gave a scoffing laugh that sounded exactly like Dean. Bobby knew what that meant. He glared at her father. "Had to teach the kid how to pick locks, didn't ya?" Dean shrugged apologetically. Bobby snorted a laugh of his own. "Idjit."

"Natalie, you need to ask before you do something like that again, understood?" Sam said in a scolding tone. Natalie ducked her head down, abashed.

"Yes, sir," she said, but she didn't sound sorry. Sam fixed his bitch face at Dean, just as a set of color changing sparks exploded out of one end of the puddled mess of plastic that was now the topper to the pyre. Dean saw her eyes light up at the spectacle, and he couldn't be mad at her- not when it made her this happy. The scolding he had been about to deliver melted away with the remainder of the plastic, and he watched as she giggled, enjoying the light show.

"Well, it is a cool way to go, after all," Dean commented casually. Natalie giggled and wound herself back into his arms.


	40. Not Today

**Hey Hey Hey Beautiful SPN Family! I've missed you!**

 **This is a request from Ravenclaw Girl. She asked to read this plot line. I don't want to spoil it, so enjoy!**

 **I need to tell you all how much you mean to me. Seriously. If I could, I would give you each a bajillion dollars. And we could all go to each SPN con together! To those patiently waiting for a story- I'm on it! I promise! I just recently got a new laptop, so I'm sincerely hoping that will make my turn around times a little better! Thank you for hanging in there with me.**

 **Extra special thanks to the wonderful Jenmm31. She's got a great collection of stories- go check them out! Thank you, Sammy :)**

 **Alright my dears- read, review, and enjoy!**

 **A/N- In this story, Natalie is 14. It takes place one month after chapter 4- Bury the Sunlight. Please see Profile Page for Disclaimers.**

Natalie's fingers were trembling in excitement. She had to forcibly inhale and exhale slowly, just to get her hands steady enough to snap her dark purple canvas coat closed. She double and triple checked the knots on her boots- Dean would get pissed if the laces came untied while she was running, or if they got tangled in something while they were in the woods. She tucked the ends of the laces into the boots themselves so there was no chance they'd catch on anything. She wasn't taking any chances- not today.

After her what-felt-like-an-eternity-long punishment for sneaking out of the house and trying to hunt down a spirit by herself was over, Sam and Dean had sat her down for a very serious talk. At the time, she was sure it was going to be another lecture on safety, the importance of always having someone watching your back when hunting, and obeying the rules. She'd been getting them about three times a week during her month-long grounding. The boys had been teaming up, giving the lecture in tandem, picking up where the other left off, and adding on when they felt the other was lacking. Natalie could recite the whole thing back and forth by the fifth time through. And then, every time they went home, she got another lecture from Bobby, too. His were slightly more tolerable. Whereas Sam would go into explicit details about why she needed to follow the rules and Dean would take her through every scenario where he and Sam had gotten in trouble by not following the rules with their own father, Bobby would usually just look at her and say "You do it again, and I'll skin you alive. Got it?" Not that Dean himself hadn't made that particular threat a time or two- Natalie just felt that between the two of them, Bobby was more likely to carry through on that ultimatum.

She had patiently and quietly sat through every lecture, making sure not to roll her eyes even though she wanted nothing more in the world than to do just that. She knew she deserved the talking-tos. She had brought all this misery on herself, by letting her short temper and impulsive actions land her straight in hot water. If Sam hadn't been there, saving her ass from the rogue poltergeist, she might not have made it back at all. Even without the lectures, she knew that. So she endured every story, every detail, and every death threat her family had been throwing at her, as contritely as possible.

But this last lecture was different. Sam asked her to sit on the couch, and he and Dean had pulled up chairs right in front of her. That had thrown her- usually while they were yelling, they preferred to stand and tower over her, making her feel even smaller than she already was at just under five feet tall. Sam sat down carefully. Dean thunked into his chair and crossed his arms tightly with a distinctly grouchy look on his face. Natalie's eyes had flicked back and forth between them, wondering what this was all about, and why her dad looked like he'd just eaten a lemon.

"Alright, Natalie," Sam said, in a calm, rational voice. "We've decided-" He was interrupted by a snort from Dean. Sam glared at his brother, and continued. "WE'VE decided-" he said again, heavily emphasizing the "we" as he shot Dean a look, "-that you're ready to get back onto the field."

Natalie's mouth dropped open in utter shock. Out of everything she had expected to hear, this was among the last. "Are you serious?" she stuttered out, not believing her own ears. "I thought you guys were going to keep me off the field until I was in my twenties."

Dean's slanted eyes moved towards her face. "That was my vote," he growled low in his throat. He sat up and uncrossed his arms, but didn't lose The Eye. He pointed one finger in her face. "Conditionally. This is completely conditional, you hear me?"

Natalie carefully nodded- this could go several ways. She needed to play it cool. "What are the conditions?" she asked lightly, trying to keep the uneasiness from her voice.

"You do what I say, at all times. No questioning, no back talking, no skipping along on your own merry freaking way. Got it?" Dean said, his tone growing firmer and firmer.

"Yes, sir," Natalie said back, respectfully. She had no problem with that- she knew that Dean was almost always right when it came to anything Supernatural. Even Sam was dominated more by his emotions than his brain sometimes, occasionally making him irrational and impulsive. It was always better when Dean took point on a case. Not to mention, she really wasn't interested in getting herself another month of lectures for not following the rules. After this particular punishment, she also was incredibly familiar with the feelings of guilt for disrespecting her father and uncle, so she wasn't about to go down that road again anytime soon. She looked back and forth between them now, wanting to know the rest of the conditions.

"Also," Sam said, sitting up a little straighter from the anxiety of what he was about to tell his niece. "You going into the field is subject to our agreement on the matter."

Natalie's eyebrows crinkled together. "What does that mean?" she asked.

"It means that if Sam and I don't agree on you going into the field, and don't agree on the level of involvement you're going to have on a case, then you're not going- end of discussion," Dean said.

Natalie's eyes widened. "But you guys don't agree on a lot of what you let me do already."

Dean shrugged nonchalantly, crossing his arms again. "I said it was conditional."

Natalie had forced herself to take a deep breath. The one side of her fourteen year old very teenagery brain wanted to scream and rage at them. They had dangled this right in front of her face, only to snatch it back out of reach. They knew that, more than anything in the world, she wanted to get into the field and start her ground training as a hunter. To put that in front of her, and then say that it was basically unattainable, was enough to make her hyper emotional teenage mind explode. However, the other side of her fourteen year old mind- the side that was far more advanced and logical than the emotional teenage side- was begging her to keep her cool. That side of her mind knew that if she even said one word in protest, Dean would immediately scrap the entire idea, give her the same lecture she'd been hearing for the last month, and she'd be right back where she started. At least with this deal, there was a chance that she'd actually get some ground training. A very, very slim chance, but it was still better than nothing.

After she exhaled slowly, she looked up to see Dean staring intently at her. He always knew what she was thinking, so it was entirely possible that he was watching to see which side of her brain was going to win this particular fight. "Okay," she said simply, looking him right in the eye. Dean cocked his eyebrow at her. Natalie knew that was his way of questioning if she was really going to go with the flow on this one.

"Okay?" he said lightly, but Natalie heard the undercurrent in his voice. Just as determined as he was, she nodded back, once, firmly.

"Yes, sir. I understand."

"Okay. Repeat back to us what you think you just heard," Sam said patiently, wanting to make sure that Natalie truly understood the conditions. Her green eyes slid over to him, and held his gaze.

"I am allowed to go onto the field only if you and Dad say that I can, and only if you agree on how much I'll be involved."

"Also..." Dean prompted. Natalie took a deep breath.

"Also I have to do what you say at all times, no questions asked." At her response, Dean uncrossed his arms and sat up, mollified.

"Good. Then in that case, we have a little project for you." Instantaneously, Natalie squealed in delight. Both Sam and Dean's eyebrows shot up into their hairlines. They hadn't heard her make that sound since she was a lot younger. Her face flushed red at her impulsive childlike behavior. She cleared her throat and squirmed a bit, causing Dean's mouth to twist to the side as he attempted to hide his amusement. Watching her try to gather herself back together after that was freaking hilarious. But he knew she would get upset if he made fun of her right now, so he let the moment pass. He catalogued it in his brain to use it to make fun of her later, however. He watched as she made a valiant effort to look grown up and mature.

"So," she said in what she considered to be a very dignified voice. "What project would you like my help on?" Dean turned away quickly so as to hide his snicker. He gestured to her to follow him. As he made his way over towards the table under the motel room window, he had been careful to hide his laugh from her. Knowing how happy she was helped to put his mind at ease about this whole situation. He pulled himself together, reached down, and pulled Natalie's laptop out of his bag, and held it out to her. She took it as if it was the Holy Grail. She had been without her precious laptop for the last month. Getting it back was like taking that first breath of clean air after being underwater for a very long time. She closed her eyes and hugged it into her chest. This time, it was Sam who snickered. Unlike his brother, he didn't bother to try to hide it.

"You just gonna stand there and hug your laptop all day?" he teased.

"Yes," she said, eyes still closed, as she rocked her laptop back and forth blissfully.

"Yeah, well, when you decide to come back down to Earth, let me know," Dean growled, but playfully. Her mouth puckered in its usual twisted to the side grin. She placed her laptop down on the table gently, and opened the lid.

"If you geek out when you turn that thing on, I swear I'm gonna leave you at the orphanage," Dean said wryly, looking into his daughter's glowing face. He couldn't help but get a thrill, seeing how happy she was, even if he was trying to take the mickey out of her. She just rolled her eyes with a giggle, reached out, and hit the power button. Dean watched as she barely managed to contain another not-very-grown-up squeal.

That had been two days ago. The research that they had her doing on this case pointed to a werewolf attack. Natalie had been exceedingly careful to do exactly as Sam and Dean had told her to do, hoping it would somehow influence them. It worked- partially. Sam saw how hard she was trying to be perfect, and, being able to identify with that feeling, he told Dean that she should be allowed to help them track the werewolf and take it down as a reward. Dean had flat-out refused. Later that night, after Natalie had gone to bed, they went to a local bar and argued for hours. Sam felt that Natalie not only deserved this chance; she needed it. He pointed out her spot on behavior and the fact that she never once complained or pushed back during her punishment. He reminded Dean that for a fourteen year old, that was akin to finding the cure for cancer. Dean stoically kept bringing Sam back to the fact that she could get cocky and overconfident, and did he really want his niece hunting down a werewolf when she thought she could take on a simple poltergeist alone? After pointing out all the things wrong with Dean's argument, and several beers later, Sam brought up the point of Natalie needing to feel like she was part of the team, and needing to get her self esteem back. They both knew that the situation with the poltergeist had been a huge blow to her confidence. With that argument, Sam finally won. Dean begrudgingly gave his permission. This morning, they told her she was going into the woods with them come nightfall. For the first time in her life, Natalie couldn't wait until the sun set.

Sam and Dean had been plying her with werewolf lore all day, quizzing her on everything from best ways to kill it to the history of the werewolf. At that last one, Dean had turned to Sam, exasperated that he was making Natalie recite werewolf origins.

"What's she gonna do with that knowledge, Sam? Bore the damn werewolf to death?" Sam had shut up about werewolf lore after that.

It was getting to be around ten o' clock. Dean had parked the Impala off the road, close to the entrance to the large, thickly wooded park. They had tracked the beast to these woods, but were unsure whether or not it was still here. They exited the car into the chilly night. The typical nighttime sounds of the forest were absent- another clue that they were on the right path. Natalie was armed to the teeth. The silver .45- an exact replica of her father's favorite handgun- was loaded with silver bullets and tucked into the small of her back.

"Alright," Dean said in a low tone, his eyes scanning the silent woods constantly as he spoke to his daughter. "We're pretty sure this is a newly-turned werewolf, right?"

Natalie took a deep breath to stop her hands from shaking, and nodded. "Uncontrolled, random acts, always killing," she said in a rush, reciting their findings.

"Atta girl," Dean said quietly with pride. "So that means that when this person is a werewolf, they've lost their sense of humanity-"

"Which means they can't be reasoned with when they're in this state," Natalie finished his thought breathlessly. Dean quickly let his eyes flick down to her, hearing the nerves in her voice. He knew she was trying to keep a lid on it, but she was still only fourteen and hunting a werewolf, for pete's sake. He found himself wondering if how he was feeling was how his father felt on Dean's first hunt. The excitement warring with the sheer terror of what was about to happen. He knew Natalie was too much like himself- that she was feeling the same mix of elation and nerves. He was determined to be just as vigilant as John had been- but hopefully, with less yelling. He chuckled. The circle of life was a bitch.

"Breathe, kiddo," he said. "You got your taser?" Natalie nodded quickly, and put her hand in her pocket, withdrawing the weapon. She gripped it tightly. Sam saw this, and he held his hand out, cautioning her.

"Don't squeeze it too tight. You don't want that thing to go off before it's ready."

"That's what she said."

"Really? Really, Dean?"

Dean just smiled smugly in response. The three Winchesters slowly crept towards the heart of the forest. Natalie stayed right in between Dean, who had the lead, and Sam, who was watching their backs.

It came out of nowhere. One moment, they were walking along the path, and suddenly, they were in the fight of their lives. Sam had seen it first. The werewolf came barreling through the trees on their left at an inhuman speed.

"MOVE!" Dean commanded, and the three of them scattered. Natalie took off straight ahead, while Dean and Sam both turned towards the creature, moving in a V pattern away from it. All three of them would have a good shot at it with that pre-planned strategy. Unfortunately, the werewolf was smarter than they'd given him credit for.

It sprang up on its powerful hind legs, jumping directly over Dean. It sensed that out of the three humans hunting it, the smallest one was going to be the easiest to pick off. Upon landing on the forest floor, he immediately took off in Natalie's direction. Natalie heard the creature's snarl much closer behind her than she had anticipated, and put on an extra burst of speed. She suddenly veered to her left, trying to throw the wolf off her track. The creature changed its trajectory with a roar, and barreled down on her. With terror, Natalie saw a huge fallen log right in her path. It was too big to try to go around, and she could barely jump high enough to even hope to get a hand hold and haul herself over it. She turned, gritted her teeth and pulled out the taser. She aimed it right at the werewolf's heart and fired. The barbs shot straight into the creature's chest, and for a nanosecond, she felt relief. However, it was short-lived; the beast didn't stop coming. It was like the taser hadn't affected it at all. Natalie backed into the tree, her hands spread wide against the rough bark, and her eyes filled with terror as the werewolf closed the gap between them in the space of a heartbeat.

Natalie suddenly felt a rough hand shove her sideways. As she hit the ground, she became aware of the sound of ripping clothing, and a human scream of pain. Her own pain from hitting the ground so suddenly and without warning passed through her body in an agonizing tidal wave. It felt like someone had driven a red hot stake into her shoulder. She frantically tried to shove the pain to the side and focus on what had happened. She looked up and her heart stopped.

Dean was wrestling with the werewolf. When Dean shoved her to the ground, he lost a precious second he needed in order to defend himself. The werewolf had grabbed him instead and flung him back away from the tree onto the forest floor, then pounced. The creature was on top of Dean, snarling and drooling like a rabid dog, while Dean held the creature's jaw away from himself- one bite and it was all over. Natalie desperately tried to get up to come to his aid, but the pain radiating through her body had other ideas. She slumped back onto the dirt and twigs, nearly blacking out. She was furious that her shoulder seemed to not want to cooperate in getting her off the forest floor. She took a huge gulp of air and willed herself to stay conscious. As she was scrambling to try to pick herself up, she heard her uncle's voice echo with a loud thunder around the trees.

"DOWN!" he roared, and Natalie immediately dropped and covered her head with her good arm like she'd been taught to. She heard the gunshot crack; the whimper of the creature, and a loud thud. Sam hollered, "Clear!" and she dared to look up. Sam had nailed the creature right in the temple. It had slumped forward onto Dean's body. Sam was running like hell to get to his brother. Natalie managed to stagger to her feet, reaching him about the same time Sam did.

"Back up!" Sam ordered, and Natalie jumped back a mile, both in obedience and surprise. She wasn't used to that level of command in Sam's voice, and to be honest it scared her, especially with all the adrenaline of the moment coursing through her veins. Sam wrapped his arms around the werewolf's body, and with an incredible effort, heaved the body off of Dean. He threw it unceremoniously on the forest floor, and immediately knelt next to his brother, who appeared to be unconscious. Sam, with the concentration and focus of a surgeon, started pulling at Dean's shirt where there was the most blood pooled. Without looking at his niece, he gave her another order.

"Go shoot that thing twice in the heart with your silver bullets. Make sure we've finished the job," he said tightly, still tearing away Dean's shirt. Natalie hastened to obey, drawing her gun as she walked around Dean, trying desperately not to look at her father. She couldn't- she knew if she did, she would never be able to follow Sam's orders. She clenched her teeth, determined. She took shaky aim at the motionless body, and squeezed the trigger twice in rapid succession. There was no way the creature could survive after that. She flicked on the safety, shoved the gun into the small of her back, and spun around on her heel towards her father and her uncle, ignoring the screaming pain in her left shoulder. Sam had ripped the remains of Dean's shirt open, revealing the huge gash in his side from the werewolf's claws. Between the pain in her shoulder and the sight of Dean's injury, Natalie had to once again convince her brain to stay conscious. Sam threw off his jacket and his over shirt, and pressed the mass of flannel to Dean's side. He looked over his shoulder at Natalie.

"Can you grab his feet?" he asked in a rush, trying to keep a calm tone, but knowing he had to get Dean out of here quickly. Natalie nodded and rushed forward. As Sam left the blood-soaked cloth on Dean's torso, he got his arms around Dean's chest and pulled him up, Natalie grabbed her father's ankles and tried to heave. In her rush to help, however, she had forgotten about her damaged shoulder. As she attempted to lift his feet to help Sam carry him, she let out a cry of pain and dropped them, causing Sam to almost lose his balance. He recovered quickly.

"What happened?" he barked at his niece. Natalie couldn't help but feel guilty at his tone. She shook her head, the tears of pain threatening to come spilling out of her eyes.

"I messed up my shoulder- I...can't lift..." she trailed off, miserably. Sam just nodded once, making Natalie feel even more horrible. She had caused Dean to get hurt, and now she couldn't even help Sam.

"It's okay, Bug," Sam said in a tight, controlled voice. "I can get him." Sam repositioned himself so that Dean was partially slung on his back in a fireman's lift. Natalie reached out her good hand to try to help steady him, but Sam stopped her. "No- I got him. Look around and see if he dropped anything." Natalie swallowed the rising tide of guilt again, and began scanning the forest floor. She didn't see anything. She did grab Sam's tan jacket from where he had thrown it. Sam was making his way back to the car slowly. "Get the keys out of his pocket," Sam said. Natalie nodded mutely and ran to Dean's side, trying to quickly fish the keys out of his jacket pocket as Sam carried him. It took her longer than she thought, and with each second she felt more and more useless. Not only was Sam trying to carry Dean by himself, she couldn't even get the damn car keys out. She finally succeeded in withdrawing them. When they were within sight of Baby, Natalie ran forward, ignoring the shooting pains in her shoulder. She opened up the front and threw the door wide open.

"Get the back- I have to lay him down," Sam said. Natalie flushed red- of course. She was so used to Dean always being in the driver's seat that her opening the driver's side had practically been a Pavlovian response. She hurried to open the door, feeling stupid, and Sam flopped Dean's unconscious form into the backseat. He spun on his heel to look at Natalie. "Can you get back there with him and hold the shirt to his side?"

"Yes," she said breathlessly, relieved that she could finally do something. She scrambled into the backseat, shifting her small form so that Sam could bend Dean's long legs enough to get in the car. It was a bit of a frantic jumble for a moment; Sam was in a hurry to get Dean back to the motel to patch him up, and Natalie was desperately trying to find an angle where she could sit and apply pressure to Dean's torso without sitting on him. They finally found the right combination, and Sam closed the backdoor quickly. He slid into the driver's seat and held his hand out behind him. Natalie dropped the keys into his open palm, praying that that was what he wanted. She was right. Sam shoved the keys into the ignition, gunned Baby's motor, and tore out of the woods. Natalie tried to focus all her attention on pressing the flannel to the deep cuts in Dean's side, and not distract Sam. She kept swallowing the guilt that threatened to spill out by focusing on her task at hand. She ignored the shooting pains in her shoulder, just as she ignored the fear that threatened to turn her guts inside out. She couldn't go there right now. Dean needed her.

When they pulled into the motel, Sam burst from the driver's seat and yanked the back passenger door open. "Come on, get out," he said, not unkindly. Natalie scrambled back out over her father. Dean had moaned a couple times on the drive back, slipping in and out of consciousness. They were both desperate to get him the medical attention that he needed, let alone stop moving him. As she tried to climb out of the backseat without stepping on her father, Natalie accidentally swiped the flannel she'd been using as a compress against the back of the driver's seat. She stopped moving for a second, the dread filling her at the thought of Dean finding out that she had stained Baby's interior.

"Aw, shit, Dad's gonna kill me," she muttered under her breath. Sam, however, was trying to pull Dean from the car and couldn't be bothered with that at the moment.

"Bug, move," he said forcefully. With another surging wave of guilt, Natalie came back to the present and almost fell out of the car, wrenching her shoulder again in the process. She clamped her lips together in pain, not wanting to give Sam anything else to worry about. Sam fished the room keys out of his pocket and tossed them at her. However, with her shoulder being out of commission and the suddenness of the move, the keys fell with a terrific clatter to the ground. Natalie felt ridiculous and stupid, and swiped them off the ground, determined to not make any more dumb mistakes. She stomped over to the door, jammed the key into the crusty old lock, and twisted. The deadbolt jammed from the rust, and she spent a solid three seconds spitting out each and every curse word that came to mind as she jiggled and pushed on the lock. When it finally gave way, she threw the door open so hard that it slammed against the wall. She spun around just in time to see Sam giving her a bitch face for the loud noise this late at night.

"Sorry," she mumbled. Sam just shook his head, the bitch face falling away and being replaced with grim amusement. He pulled Dean through the door and flopped him down on the bed. Breathing hard from the exertion, he turned back to Natalie, all business once again.

"Go close up the car. Hurry," he commanded. She nodded once, and rushed to do his bidding. She triple checked Baby's locks on all the doors, making sure nothing was open. She ran back into the room in time to see Sam opening the first aid kit on the bed next to his brother. Natalie shut the motel door, being careful not to slam it. She rushed to her uncle's side, ready to help. She couldn't look at Dean. She was afraid that if she did, she'd go to pieces. Sam was pulling out a needle, thread, and a lighter. He flipped the lighter open and ran the needle through the flame, disinfecting it as quickly as he could. As he worked, he spoke quietly but rapidly to his niece.

"Go get a couple damp towels and a couple dry ones," he murmured, concentrating on putting the thread through the eye of the needle. Natalie scurried into the bathroom, trying to grab as many towels as she could with only one good shoulder. Her left hand still seemed to be working, so she quickly transferred the towels there. She opened up the bathroom taps, willing the water to get warm quickly. When it did, she ran two towels under the faucet. She tried to wring them out a bit so they wouldn't be sopping water all over the floor, but it was difficult with her shoulder not wanting to cooperate. She gathered the towels and raced back to Sam's side. He was tying a knot at the end of the thread.

"Try to gently clean around the wound, okay? Go easy on him- it's gonna hurt like hell," Sam said in clipped tones. Natalie stepped forward. The towels shook in her hand momentarily, but with the speed of a tiger she clamped down on the panic and focused, like they had taught her to do her entire life. She tentatively reached out and started wiping away the blood. Dean chose that unfortunate moment to come back around, and let out a loud groan of pain. Natalie nearly jumped out of her skin and threw up at hearing that sound come from her father's lips, knowing that she had caused it. He immediately slipped back under, but she couldn't bring herself to reach out and start cleaning the wound again. The tidal wave of guilt threatened to drown her again.

"Natalie, come on. The longer it stays open, the longer he's gonna hurt. Get a move on," Sam ordered, but gently. Natalie just gave him a short, jerky nod- she didn't trust herself to open her mouth and not vomit. She pressed forward, cleaning the torn skin. Sam leaned down, watching carefully.

"Good," he murmured as Natalie finished the job. "Doesn't look like there's any signs of infection." Sam took one of the clean towels and gently began examining the wound, trying to see the extent of the damage. Natalie found herself holding her breath as Sam worked, praying that Sam could fix her father. After what seemed like a thousand years, Sam sighed in relief.

"The cuts aren't too deep, but I still need to stitch him up," he said almost absentmindedly as he bent down to work. Natalie leaned down as well, trying to watch, or be near enough to help if needed. "Bug, move. You're in the light," Sam murmured as he lowered the needle. That simple statement made Natalie feel like shit all over again. She quickly stepped back, almost tripping over the damp towels. She hastened to gather them up, giving her an excuse to move quickly away from Sam. She knew he was focused on Dean right now, but she didn't want him to see the tears in her eyes in case he looked up. She was worthless. She got in the way, she had gotten Dean hurt, and she hadn't stopped the werewolf. Everything she had ever wanted to be her entire life was crashing down around her tonight, and she could barely stand it. She couldn't do this. She could never be a Hunter.

She dropped the bloody towels in the bathroom and meticulously washed her hands. She was scrubbing for a good minute before she felt like she could pull herself back together again. Dean had gotten hurt on the hunt, and it was all her fault. If she hadn't been there, he wouldn't have had to push her out of the way, risking his own life, which he could have lost tonight. At the thought of a world without Dean in it, Natalie had to fight her own consciousness again. She couldn't imagine it- and yet, it had been right in front of her face. And it was all her fault.

She willed the angry wetness in her eyes to evaporate. She stoically dried her hands on one of the remaining clean towels, then walked quietly back to the main room. Sam was just finishing up his brother's stitches. He applied a salve and a large, white bandage to Dean's side. However, he saw his niece out of his peripheral vision.

"Nat, grab the bottle of bourbon in the fridge," he said tonelessly. "Your dad's gonna want it when he wakes up."

At that statement, her heart nearly stopped again. She willed her voice to not come out shakily. She hated herself, but she just had to ask. "Uncle Sam- he's gonna wake up, right?" she asked in a low, controlled voice. Sam had just finished taping the bandage in place. He looked up in surprise.

"Of course he will, Bug," he said, the confusion clear in his voice. Natalie, once again, just nodded in response, and went to the fridge. Sam didn't know why she would be asking that- it wasn't like Dean getting knocked out was anything new. Then he realized- this was all new to her. She had been in the field with them a few times, sometimes by choice, sometimes not- but this was the first time she had ever seen the serious damage happen first hand. He saw the stoic look on her face, and instantly knew what she was thinking. He had seen that look too many times on his brother's face to not know what she was thinking. He quickly wiped off the needle and put it back in the kit- he'd disinfect it later. Right now, there was a more pressing matter.

"Bug- come here," he said gently, standing up and holding his arms out to her. She just shook her head and threw him a lopsided smile, placing the bourbon bottle on the nightstand next to Dean. The gesture almost made Sam do a double take. _She looks just like Dean when she does that,_ he thought to himself.

"I'm fine," she said, shrugging like nothing was bothering her.

"Natalie."

It was all he said, but it was all it took. Upon hearing Sam's low, gentle voice, Natalie's stoic act cracked. Her face crumpled, and she pinched her eyes shut tight to keep any tears from escaping. She couldn't move her worthless feet- if she did, she'd collapse. The next thing she knew, Sam's arms were winding around her. She turned and buried her face into his chest, gripping his flannel shirt tightly. Sam was thrown back in time for a moment. As a baby, when she was scared, she used to wind her hands in their shirts and pull them close to her face. Sam knew Natalie hated crying, so he had always figured that she was using their shirts as a way to mop up the tears that she didn't want touching her face. But he realized that it was also a comforting gesture to her- like holding onto a favorite blanket. He pulled her in close as she struggled for control.

"It's okay, he's gonna be okay sweetheart," Sam murmured to her. He felt her shake her head against his chest. He looked down. "What? Don't trust me?" he said jokingly. She gave a watery giggle, and a wave of relief swept over Sam. He knew that she was probably just freaking out about the whole situation- he remembered all too well the terror of his first hunt. He leaned back to look her in the face. "He really is going to be okay. You do know that, right?" he asked gently, searching her face. She just pinched her lips and looked away.

"It's not that. Well, not JUST that," she said quietly.

"Then what is it?" She shook her head again, but Sam knew her too well. She was covering up because she felt like she had to- because she felt like emotion was a weakness. But he and Dean had been very careful to make sure that she was able to express herself when she needed to. They never told her it was bad to cry- she had come up with that ridiculous theory on her own. Sam still wondered what had caused that in her, but now wasn't the time to pursue that train of thought. "Come on, Bug. What's really bothering you?"

At hearing the affectionate nickname, her resolve shattered, and the words came pouring out. "I'm a failure, that's what. I got Dad hurt, I couldn't take down the werewolf, I almost got myself killed by a stupid poltergeist, I..." At this, she ran out of air. She took a gulp accompanied by a small sob and continued. "I couldn't even open the right damn door to the car. Everything I touch is a disaster. I'm not meant to be a hunter and that's all I've ever wanted. And all I do is fail at it." She couldn't go on. The tears started pouring down her face. She dropped the front of Sam's shirt and began furiously batting them away. "Dammit," she hissed, hating as always the feeling of tears on her face. Sam bit back the scolding that wanted to surface at hearing her curse, but he knew it wasn't the time for that either. He leaned down and looked her right in the face.

"Now hold on. I don't want to hear anymore talk about you being a failure. You understand?" Natalie just rolled her eyes in response. Sam took her by the shoulders and gave her a little shake. The gesture surprised her, and she looked him right in the eye again. "Hey. I mean it. No more talk like that. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," she said miserably. Natalie knew that Sam felt like it was his duty to stop her from speaking poorly about herself, but that didn't change the fact that she still felt like an epic fail. However, she wasn't giving Sam enough credit. He shook his head, knowing that she was only giving him lip service.

"Nope. Don't give me that, Bug."

"Uncle Sam, I..."

"Just hold it a second, okay? Hear me out. You know why it wasn't a good idea to go hunting that poltergeist by yourself, right?"

"Because I was alone," she said, reciting the main point of last month's lectures.

"Exactly. Tonight, you had both your dad and me with you. And that thing still got the jump on the three of us." Natalie hadn't thought of it like that. She opened her mouth to speak again, but Sam interrupted her before she could even start. "You did everything right. Did you ever think for a second that Dean WOULDN'T jump in front of you if you were in danger during a hunt?"

Natalie shook her head despondently. He was missing the point. "But you don't understand..."

"What don't I understand?"

"Dad didn't even want me to go out in the first place. I know you're the one who convinced him to let me go. Don't try to deny it, because I know it's true. And he was right to keep me away. I almost messed up the whole thing and got him killed. I don't deserve to be a hunter."

Sam took a deep breath. "Natalie, your father didn't want you on the hunt because he was afraid that you would get hurt- he's always going to be worried about you getting hurt. But do you know why your dad finally agreed to let you go?" She shook her head, and Sam smiled gently. "Because he knew it would make you happy." Natalie's eyebrows shot up in surprise. She hadn't been expecting that. "He knew you could handle yourself. The only reason you didn't take down the poltergeist single handedly was because you were by yourself. It had nothing to do with your skill. It never has. And you seem to have forgotten that. Hell, come on. He's the one who's trained you. Do you think that he would have let you step foot in that forest if he didn't believe in you? If he didn't know you were top notch? Or that I would, for that matter?"

"But...but I almost got him killed."

"No, YOU didn't. He's the one who put himself in that position."

"And if I hadn't been there, he wouldn't have been in that position."

"The werewolf would have gone after me then. And he still would be in that position. Or it would have gone after him. And I would have been in that position. Bug, you did everything right. You kept your head, followed the plan, shot the damn thing point blank with a taser. Sometimes, things just don't work out the way they're supposed to. And that's why you always have someone watching your back. Do you get it now?" Sam searched Natalie's face carefully. A modicum of truth was creeping into her eyes. She was starting to believe him, even though Sam could tell she didn't want to.

"But I did stupid stuff like drop the keys, and get in your light..." Sam suddenly reached into his coat pocket and threw the Impala keys up in the air. Not expecting that, Natalie reached out to grab them, but was just a hair too late. She stared at the keys, then looked up at Sam like he'd suddenly lost his mind. He just cocked one eyebrow at her.

"Shit happens."

At that, Natalie's mouth dropped open. "Wow. You just...wow." Sam chuckled. Just then, Dean stirred. They instantly broke apart as their respective focuses zeroed in on Dean. Sam's long legs got him to Dean's side first. He sat down on the bed next to his brother.

"Dean," he said quietly. Natalie hung back, afraid of what Dean was going to think about the werewolf attack. She had just started to think that maybe this wasn't entirely due to her lack of skill, but now that Dean was awake, he might have a different viewpoint. Dean stirred again, then suddenly sat bolt upright and seized the front of Sam's shirt.

"Natalie! Is she okay?" Dean croaked out in his raspy voice, still hoarse from the screaming earlier. His eyes were crazed as he panicked about his daughter. Sam placed a firm, gentle hand on his brother's shoulders and steadied him.

"She's fine, man."

"Where is she?!" His eyes slid around the room, still swimming a bit from coming back to consciousness, and they landed on her. Upon seeing her whole and relatively unharmed, Dean slumped back onto the pillows, exhaling loudly. Natalie darted to his side. When she got there, his eyes were closed again, but there was a smile on his face.

"Thank God," he muttered, then opened up his eyes again. "You did good back there, squirt."

"Told ya," Sam said softly, grinning at her. Her eyes darted back and forth between the two of them, clearly of the opinion that they had both gone bananas.

"But Dad, you had to save me from the werewolf. I messed up," she said bleakly. Better to own up to your mistakes with Dean upfront than try to beat around the bush. Dean, however, gave Natalie the surprise of her life. He shrugged nonchalantly, just like Sam had a moment ago.

"Werewolf got lucky. Well, not so lucky in the long run, I'm guessing," Dean said. He looked at Sam for confirmation. Sam smiled proudly at Natalie.

"She finished him off herself. Two silver bullets to the heart," he said, his voice ringing with pride. Dean's grin widened.

"Damn. Wish I'd been awake to see that," he grumbled. Natalie's jaw dropped to the floor.

"Now do you believe me?" Sam asked Natalie. Dean's eyes slid back to his daughter.

"What? What'd I miss?" he asked, worried that something else had happened to her. Then he saw a rarity- Natalie smiled. She actually smiled.

"I just...I was just worried that you were going to ban me from hunting for life for getting your side ripped open," she said quietly, but her radiating smile told a different story.

Dean chuckled, low. "Not today. Now let's fix that shoulder."

Natalie just stared at him as her hand went instinctively to her damaged shoulder. "Wha- how? How did you know?"

"I'm your father. I know everything," he said with a sleepy grin. It was Sam's turn to laugh at that. As he pulled Natalie back towards him and began gently examining her shoulder, he determined it was just a bad sprain. But before he let her go, he looked back into her eyes.

"You good, Bug?" he whispered.

With a smile, she answered, "Yeah. I'm good." She still had a long way to go, but she wasn't going to give up on hunting. Not today.


	41. Couch Castiels

**Good Morning Beautiful SPN family! How are you today?**

 **This story is a request from SamA18. This is one of the first requests she made, and I asked her to hang on till Christmas for me to publish it, and she very patiently did. So here it is!**

 **A million thank yous to all of you for the reads, reviews, follows and favorites. I appreciate it more than I can say. Special thanks to Jenmm31 for reading, proofing, and being awesome.**

 **Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, and Happy Holidays to you all! Love you!**

 **A/N- In this story, Natalie is 5. Please see Profile Page for Disclaimer**

Natalie had just swallowed the last bite of her favorite lunch- grilled cheese- when Dean looked at her from across the table in Bobby's kitchen. "Good girl," he said, praising the fact that she finished all her meal. It wasn't an unusual occurrence. Natalie had definitely inherited her father's appetite. But she still soaked up the praise like a sponge, always wanting to make her Daddy happy.

Now that she was on Christmas break from her school, Dean had declared that they weren't taking any official cases at all until after the holidays. He wanted to make sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that he and Sam were with Natalie for all holidays- especially Christmas. He was bound and determined not to turn into John Winchester in this case- always putting work before family. Besides, he missed his kid. Being away from her was much harder than he had anticipated, so he jumped at the chance as often as he could. But evil never stopped to rest, so times like this had been scarce this past year. Natalie had been missing Dean just as much as he missed her, so any praise that she got from him was its own Christmas.

She grinned and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Dean chuckled. If Sam had seen that, he'd have gone ballistic. But Sam currently wasn't at the table. He was on a mission of his own. Possibly one of the most complicated missions the brothers had ever been on. And now it was Dean's turn to play his part.

Dean stood up, walked around to Natalie's chair, and picked her straight up in his arms, setting her down on his hip. There was no way he was going to give her the chance to run, and given what he was about to propose, that was a distinct possibility. "Okay, squirt," he said once he was sure he had a firm grip on her. "Nap time."

Just as he knew she would, his five year old's face crumpled into a mix of disgust and horror. "But I don't need a nap!" she protested, immediately starting to squirm to break his hold on her. Dean just kept a tight grip, giving her literally no wiggle room. Natalie hated naps and sleeping, but it was a necessary evil. He carried the fidgeting child towards the stairs up to her room at Bobby's house. He looked at her and spoke gently as he continued to get closer and closer to her bed. He had to make this as fast as possible, and with a child who despised naps, it wasn't going to be easy.

"You do too need a nap."

"No, I don't! Naps are dumb. Naps are for babies. And I'm NOT a baby!"

"Well, you're right, there. You're not a baby. But you are being a _cranky butt_ ," he said deliberately. And once again, just like he knew she would, her face pinched together like she had just sucked on a lemon. She _hated_ it when Sam or Dean called her a "cranky butt".

"I am not!"

"Yes, you are."

"I am NOT being a cranky butt!"

Dean freed up one hand just long enough to poke her in the arm. "So what do you call how you're behaving right now? I'd say that's being a cranky butt." Natalie just folded her arms tightly and didn't say anything, other than to make a dissatisfied little growling noise. Dean kept speaking while regaining a tight hold on her, slowly making his way up the stairs. "And cranky butts need naps." Natalie huffed in frustration, knowing Dean had just outwitted her.

"NOT a cranky butt….." she mumbled under her breath, clearly trying not to give Dean any more fodder. Dean's smile twisted off to the side in an attempt to keep from outright laughing in her face, which would just make her more mad anyways. They reached her open door, and she slumped against Dean with a whimper, knowing she had lost the battle. He walked over to her bed and laid her down right onto her back, reaching immediately for her blanket. She pinched her face tighter and pounded the mattress with her fists in displeasure. Dean looked her right in the eye as he drew the blanket over her thumping fists.

"Listen. You stay down and go to sleep, you hear me?"

"But I'm not tired!"

"You'll get tired tonight if you don't take a nap now- you know you will." There. That shut her up. She made her stink face again, but didn't protest. Dean pressed his advantage. "And if you take a nap now, that means you get to stay up and play tonight." Her eyes flicked up to him, intrigued by the proposal. Dean took a calming breath- time to drop the big one. "Who knows. We may even get Cas to come by tonight."

Her eyes lit up like the Christmas tree downstairs. "Really?" she squealed excitedly. Dean nodded vigorously.

"You betcha. How long has it been since Cas came to play?"

"Sooooooo long."

"Bet you wish he was here right now, huh?"

Natalie's eyes got wide, and suddenly darted around the room. When the angel didn't appear, her face fell. "I do wish he was here now," she mumbled, disappointed. Dean reached out and smoothed her hair back.

"He probably knows that it's nap time, and doesn't want to keep you up so you all can play tonight." Natalie thought about that for a moment, then nodded her head in agreement.

"Yeah, that's probably it," she said, trying to sound like a wise old sage. Dean chuckled again, leaned down, and kissed her forehead. He looked her right in her beautiful green eyes.

"You know the drill. Stay in bed, go to sleep, and no getting up until you wake up. Kapeesh?" he reminded her, one eyebrow raised.

"Kapeesh," she said, then yawned so big her jaws looked like they were going to dislocate. Dean tucked the blanket in a bit tighter around her before standing up.

"Okay, then. Sleep well, kiddo."

"'Kay," she mumbled, half asleep already. Dean smiled and shook his head as he slowly walked out and closed the door. No matter how much she fought it, she almost always went right to sleep after finally being wrestled into bed. He waited silently by her door for a few moments, then quickly tiptoed to the edge of the stairs. Had it worked? Did they pull it off?

In answer to his questions, Sam appeared at the base of the stairs and gave him a thumbs up. Dean took two seconds to fist pump, before Sam waved his arms frantically, reminding him he had to be quiet. Dean shot his own bitch face back at Sam, as if to say _duh, I know._ He then tiptoed back to Natalie's door, where he removed the piece of paper that had been surreptitiously taped to the back of the door earlier. He grinned down at the angel sigil drawn on it. He still couldn't believe it had worked- he had to go see with his own eyes.

He slid down the stairs as quickly and as quietly as he could. Sure enough, Sam was standing there- and so was Castiel. Dean chuckled proudly under his breath.

"You owe me twenty bucks," he said cheekily to Sam.

Sam just rolled his eyes in response. "It's not over yet."

"Give it up, Sammy, I won. The plan worked."

"We're not even out the door yet, Dean."

"I don't understand," Cas said, interrupting their banter.

"Big shock there," Dean replied.

Choosing to ignore that, Cas spoke up again anxiously. "Where's Natalie? She wanted me, I could feel it. But she's warded somewhere. Is she in trouble?"

Dean held up his hands like he was pumping the brakes. "Whoa, whoa, slow down there. She's fine."

"Then where is she?"

"She's up in her room, asleep."

"Her room isn't warded against me."

"Not typically."

Long pause. "I still don't understand."

Sam put a comforting hand on the angel's shoulder as Dean hurriedly laced up his boots. "Look, Cas, we needed to get you here, but we needed Natalie NOT to know you were here. Not yet, anyways."

"Why?"

Dean looked up with a snort of laughter. "Why? Because it's Christmas, Cas, that's why."

Cas shook his head in utter confusion. He had a hard enough time understanding humans on a day to day basis. Why did the Winchesters double talk and not get to the point sooner? Were they messing with him again? Sam saw the frustration on the angel's face and jumped in to help.

"Look, Cas. We've got to try to go Christmas shopping for Natalie, but the kid-"

"-The kid's a freaking ninja when it comes to presents and crap," Dean interrupted. "We can't take her to the store with us, obviously."

"And we can't take turns going, because she's already figured out that that means one of us is shopping," Sam finished.

"So why not leave her alone?" Cas asked seriously. Both brothers turned to look at the angel like he was the crazy one.

"Dude- you know what kind of havoc she can wreak when she's being watched. Imagine what she'd do if we left her alone in a house where she thinks there are presents," Dean said impatiently. Cas's eyes got wide as the truth of the statement hit him. Sam added his own two cents.

"So if she wakes up before we're back, we're hoping that the excitement in seeing you will distract her from tearing the house apart," he said, wanting to make sure that Cas truly understood the magnitude of what they were up against. Now that she was old enough to understand holidays, Natalie had started celebrating them with the same zeal as Dean with pie. She had been going bonkers ever since Sam and Dean came home, practically exploding with Christmas excitement every moment of every day.

"Oh. I understand now," Cas said, nodding in agreement. Dean stood up and shrugged into his jacket.

"She just went down for a nap. We've got- hopefully- an hour and a half until she gets up." He turned to Sam. "Bobby already loaded into the car?"

Sam nodded. "Ready to rock and roll."

"Good," Dean said, pleased that Sam was able to carry out his end of the covert mission. He looked at Cas. "Just make sure that if she wakes up, you don't tell her we're Christmas shopping, alright?"

Cas nodded quickly, seeing the seriousness behind the situation. "I understand. I am babysitting again."

Dean pointed to him. "On the nose," he said. _Well, close enough,_ he thought. He and Sam zipped out of the house and raced to the Impala, knowing theirs was a time-sensitive task. Cas watched impassively from the window as the Impala screeched out of the dirt driveway towards town.

He looked around himself at the living room. Having Natalie around was certainly making a difference in Bobby's decor. There were random crayons scattered all over the living room floor, along with pictures of devil's traps and something that looked like ponies- or possibly a hamburger. Cas picked up one of Natalie's pieces of art, turning it over and around, trying to decipher the picture. He really needed to speak to her about her lack of artistic skill. He waved his hand over the mess, and the crayons suddenly appeared in neat rows in the box that had been abandoned under the sofa. He picked up the now full box and placed it on the coffee table. He had stepped on a crayon once before and found it immensely dissatisfying. He was not anxious to repeat the experience.

He sat down on the sofa, but immediately jumped back up. What on earth had he sat on? Upon further inspection, he picked up what appeared to be a small, green, plastic man. He turned it this way and that, examining it, before he realized that these were those green army men that Natalie was so fond of playing with. This little fellow that had accidentally stabbed him in the hindquarters appeared to be holding a long rifle. Cas snapped his fingers, and the rifle disappeared from the army man's hands. Cas carefully probed the rest of the couch for little army men, which proved to be a good idea. Natalie had been playing that her army men, or the "Hulks", as she called the little green toys, were undercover. Unfortunately, she had forgotten they were there. Cas picked the rest of them out of the couch and deposited them next to the crayons on the table. He carefully attempted to sit down on the couch again, and was relieved when nothing poked him. He put his hands on his lap, contented to wait until Sam, Dean, and Bobby returned.

About half an hour later, however, Cas heard stirring from upstairs. His brow wrinkled in confusion. Dean had been very clear that Natalie would probably be asleep for at least an hour and a half. However, this time, Dean was wrong. He heard Natalie's door knob twist and a small yawn, then heard her socked feet prancing down the stairs. He stood up and turned towards the stairs as she jumped the last three steps to the main floor. For two seconds, he watched as her face registered shock at the sight of the angel in the trench coat. Her eyes suddenly lit up, and Cas got a glimpse of her thousand watt smile before she screamed "CAS!" and launched herself at him. Even though it was her typical greeting, it still took him by surprise. She threw herself into his stomach and wrapped her arms around his waist, squeezing him as tight as she could.

"Why do you always insist on greeting me this way?" he asked, more out of curiosity than annoyance. She looked up at him and grinned that grin that he found so captivating.

"Because I loooooooooooooooove you," she said in a sweet voice.

"Oh. Very well, then," he said, as if that explained her need to hurl her body at his every time she saw him.

"I'm really glad you're here! I wanted you to come earlier, but Daddy said that you knew I was supposed to be asleep and didn't want to bother me," she said, after releasing the angel from her bear hug. Her head tilted to the side, observing his response.

Knowing that Dean wanted to keep the truth from her, Cas's eyes darted around the room. "Yes, that's correct," he said, wildly avoiding eye contact. He quickly attempted to change the subject before she could inquire further. "Why didn't you sleep longer?" he asked bluntly.

She shrugged. "I'm not tired," she said. Cas knew she was telling the truth. For being only 5, she really didn't seem to require as much sleep as an average child. But she was also a Winchester. That seemed to put her in a whole different category when it came to basic human needs. She looked side to side, as if she just realized that there were no other adults around. "Where's everybody else?" she asked innocently.

Cas panicked. He knew that it was important to Dean that Natalie not know that they were Christmas shopping for her- but he had never been good at lying, especially on the spot. "They are…..they're fixing the car."

She looked out the window. "Baby's not out there."

"They are getting hair cuts."

"Have you met my uncle?"

"They are…."

"Cas- are they Christmas shopping?!"

Pause.

"No."

"Yes, they are!" Natalie squealed excitedly. She began jumping up and down, clapping her hands. Cas tried to speak, but no words would come out. He supposed this was what humans referred to as "getting tongue tied". Natalie darted to his side, grabbed his hand, and began yanking him towards the stairs. "C'mon!" she squealed in a decibel level that was only ever meant for dogs.

"Where are we going?" Cas wondered.

"We're gonna go hunting!"

"I was under the impression that you weren't allowed on the field until you were older."

Natalie sighed and hung her head, looking exactly like Dean. "Hunting for Christmas presents, I mean." At that declaration, Cas dug his feet in. The five year old wasn't able to pull him, no matter how hard she tried.

"Natalie," he said in his gruff, stern voice. She instantly stopped tugging, surprised at the tone. She looked at him innocently. "You are not supposed to look for presents. Or tear up the house. Those were my instructions," he said, abandoning all pretense. He knew she would see right through it anyways.

Natalie put on her best little-girl face. "I won't tear up the house! Honest!" She looked around the room, trying to find something to prove that she wouldn't do exactly what Cas feared she would. Her eyes landed on the box of crayons on the coffee table. She reared back in surprise.

"I didn't put those up," she said, half to herself. Cas, however, thought she was speaking to him.

"You're correct. I did."

She swung around to look at him. "Why did you do that?"

"Because the last time I stepped on one of your crayons, I got a bit of burnt sienna on the bottom of my shoe. It made colored marks every time I walked. I did not care for that."

"So you picked all my crayons up?" she asked incredulously, grabbing the box from the table and peering into it to make sure he had gotten them all.

"I didn't actually pick them up. I simply put them back in the box." At that, Natalie's face registered confusion. He held out his hand. "Like this," he said, gesturing that he wanted her to hand him the box. She did without reluctance. He upturned the box and dumped the crayons back all over the floor. But before she could squeak out so much as a "Hey!", Cas waved his hands again. Instantly, the crayons appeared in the box again, perfectly lined up just as before. He handed the box back to the dumbfounded child. "See?" he said.

Natalie barely heard him. Upon seeing the demonstration, her brain began to spin out with glorious possibilities. She said in a hushed tone, "You can do stuff like that with your angel power?" When Cas nodded, he was surprised to see a wild, manic gleam in her large eyes. Suddenly, she tossed the crayons onto the couch, turned on her heel, and darted back up the stairs. "C'mon Cas! We got work to do!" she squealed at the top of her little lungs.

More out of curiosity than anything else, Cas followed her. She had already raced into Dean's room, and was dragging an old chair he had by the wall nearer to his closet. "What are you doing?" he asked, watching the child throw open the closet door and drag the chair inside. She turned to him with a grin.

"I'm looking for Christmas presents!"

"You're not supposed to be doing that. I told you this already."

"Then I'm checking the top shelf of Daddy's closet for dust."

"Alright."

He walked over as she started to haul herself up on the chair to get a better viewpoint. He immediately reached out and put her back down on the floor. She squawked in outrage. "I do know that you are not allowed to climb on chairs like that without permission," he said, the touch of sterness back in his voice. She huffed and stamped her foot.

"Then how am I supposed to see the top shelf?" In response, Cas pointed two fingers at her, and she lifted into the air, exactly how he used to do with her when she was a baby and wanted to go "up". She giggled. "You're right," she said, dangling midair. "This is so much better." She attempted to swim through the air to try to move her closer to the closet. Cas saw what she was after, and obliged by moving her closer to the shelf. The second her hands were within reach of the shelf, she started grabbing and throwing things behind her, desperately looking for gifts.

"Natalie," Cas said this time in a worried tone. He knew she wasn't supposed to tear the house apart, but if he attempted to put the tossed items back right now, he would risk dropping her.

"It's okay, Cas," she said in a soothing tone while continuing to tear Dean's closet apart. When she didn't find anything, she let out a huff of displeasure. "Can you put me down please?" Castiel immediately obliged. She floated gracefully to the floor. She hurriedly gathered the items that she had carelessly tossed behind her. She held her now full hands out to Cas. "Will you please put these back up there?"

"You should not have thrown them down in the first place," Cas commented dryly.

"How else was I supposed to see if…there was dust up there?"

Pause.

"I see your point." At that, Natalie held her hands out to Cas again, silently asking him to put all the items back. With a simple wave, he did. Natalie stared at her now empty hands.

"That is SO cool," she whispered in wonder. Without further comment, she tore out of Dean's room and into Sam's. They repeated the same process through Sam's and eventually Bobby's room. When she came up empty handed, she started to get frustrated.

"I KNOW there's gotta be presents here somewhere," she said, grumbling.

"You don't know that," Cas commented, hoping to distract her. She turned and put her hands on her hips.

"So are you saying that they're out shopping for Christmas presents then, since there are no presents in the house?" she asked matter of factly, as if she was interrogating him at a court hearing. Cas's eyes got wide at her question and reasoning. This was one of Dean's instructions- that she not know their shopping activities. He tried to adopt a casual air, but ended up looking constipated.

"I'm not saying that."

"Then it's possible that there are Christmas presents here somewhere."

"You're not supposed to be tearing up the house."

"I'm not! The walls and stuff are all still standing, aren't they?"

Well, she had a point.

After a thorough search of the shelves in the den and the living room, Natalie finally admitted defeat. She threw herself down onto the couch dramatically. "WHY are they making this so hard?!" she whined aloud. Cas, not knowing the answer, kept silent. She turned her head and caught sight of the pile of army men on the coffee table. She popped back up and slid off the couch onto her knees next to the table, picking up her "hulks" and examining them.

"I forgot I left these in the couch," she said, giggling.

"I thought as much," Castiel said grimly, still remembering the little fellow who had pierced him. Natalie absentmindedly walked one of her toy soldiers along the edge of the coffee table, while putting her head in her hand.

"Cas, if you were my dad, where would you hide Christmas presents?" she asked. Before he could answer, she whipped around and looked at him, still standing by the couch. "Did your dad ever get you Christmas presents?"

Knowing that she didn't really understand exactly what she was asking him, Castiel chose his next words carefully. "My Father- is very busy around Christmas time. But then again, most angels are, too."

"Oh," she said. "I'll make sure you get a Christmas present this year, okay?" she said with an anxious look on her face. She loved Cas- and she wanted him to feel the holiday spirit like she was. She started prancing her little green soldier along the couch cushions. "Huh. I thought this one had a rifle in his hands," she murmured, looking at her toy. Suddenly, a brilliant thought occurred to her. She stood up, pulled one of the couch cushions off the sofa, and flipped it around until she found the zipper keeping in all the padding. She unzipped it. In one horrible moment, Cas realized what she was about to do.

"Natalie- stop!" Castle said in a panicked voice, but it was too late. The five year old thrust both arms into the fluff and started pulling out chunks of white, cottony fibers. In a matter of moments, the cushion was empty. White fluff covered the little girl and the floor around her. She peered into the depths, and with a disgruntled sigh, tossed it to the side.

"Natalie, what on earth are you doing now?" Cas asked, exasperated at her behavior. She shrugged nonchalantly. A chunk of white fluff fell off her shoulder.

"I thought they might have hidden presents in the cushions, like I hid my Hulks," she explained patiently, before reaching for another cushion. Cas threw up his hands. There was clearly no reasoning with her at this point. so she might as well get it all out of her system. She made short work of the other two cushions. Before the angel knew it, the whole room looked like a blizzard had just hit. Once she got over the disappointment of not finding any presents, Natalie finally got a good look at the havoc surrounding her. She giggled.

"It looks like it's snowing! In the house!" she said with a delighted laugh. Despite the mess, Cas found himself wanting to smile at her joy. But his feelings quickly turned to confusion when the child laid down in the middle of the white fluff and began spreading her arms and legs apart.

"What are you attempting to do?" Cas asked, perplexed.

"I'm making snow YOUS!" she shrieked back, before bursting into infectious giggles. "See?" She began flapping her arms again, trying to demonstrate the proper way to make a snow angel. "It makes a snow angel when you do this!" She picked herself up off the floor, and turned around to survey her work. Tiny bits of cotton fiber stuck to her hair and shirt. She sighed, seeing that the fluff wasn't behaving quite the same way that snow did. "It makes sense in the snow," she said, shrugging.

At that moment, the front door opened, and Dean walked in. Upon seeing the white, fluffy living room, he stopped so fast that Sam ran into the back of him. His eyes grew wide and he struggled for words as Sam tried to collect himself.

"Ouch! Dean! Why'd you….." Sam said, trailing off as he got a look at the disaster area. "Oh. That's why," he said quietly, taking in the little girl and the angel, both covered in cotton fluff.

"What. The Hell. HAPPENED?" Dean roared, still not moving. "Natalie, what did you do?!"

Completely oblivious to the fact that she was in a lot of trouble, she threw her arms wide and giggled. "I made snow angels!" she said proudly. Bobby chose that unfortunate moment to try to wheel through the door. However, as Sam was still standing in the middle of it, it was proving to be difficult.

"You gonna stand there all day, princess? Move!" Bobby commanded, causing Sam to jump and scoot to the side. When the old man got an eyeful of the winter wonderland his adopted granddaughter had made, his jaw hit the floor. "Natalie Grace!" he barked out. That caused her to realize that maybe everything wasn't quite kosher.

"What?" she asked innocently. Dean's eyes got wider, and he silently gestured to the blizzard of couch padding all around him. "Oh. That. It's okay!" she explained quickly. She turned to the angel. "Cas, can you put it back again please?"

"Of course," he said. With a wave of his hand, the room was instantly clean, and the couch cushions were back in their place, looking no worse for their wear.

"Thank you!" she said, grinning. She looked back at Dean. "See? It's okay!"

"Oh- it is a lot of things, but OKAY is not one of them," Dean growled, walking over towards the angel and the little girl. "Cas, what the hell, man?! I told you not to let her tear apart the house!"

"I didn't tear apart the house!" Natalie piped up, frustrated that the brilliance of her plan was going unnoticed. Dean turned and pointed a warning finger in her face.

"You hush. I'll deal with you in a minute," he said in a menacing tone. She clamped her lips shut, suddenly KNOWING that everything was not kosher. She took a little step closer to Cas for support. Dean's focus shifted back to the angel. "What happened?"

Cas looked blankly at Dean. "Well, she took the stuffing out of the couch, Dean."

"I KNOW that. Why?"

"She was looking for Christmas presents."

"Cas!" Natalie hissed. Cas suddenly shifted uncomfortably.

"I mean- she was…dusting."

"Dusting," Dean repeated flatly, not believing what he was hearing.

"Yes."

"Dusting the inside of the couch cushions."

"Yes."

"Really? Is that the best you could come up with?"

"On this short notice, yes."

Dean just rolled his eyes. His gaze shifted back to his daughter, who was twisting her foot on the floor. "How many times have I told you not to go hunting for Christmas presents, little girl?"

Natalie fidgeted guiltily. "Well….what else am I supposed to do?" she asked, looking up at Dean with a pleading look in her eye. "I HAVE to find them!"

"No, you HAVE to do what I tell you to. You know better than to go hunting for presents, and I sure as hell know that you know better than to tear apart couch cushions."

She pointed half heartedly towards them. "But they're okay now," she said, hoping that would earn her some brownie points.

"And since when do you think it's okay for Cas to clean up your messes? He's not a personal servant. He doesn't just do your bidding whenever you want him too."

"But that's what you did to him earlier."

That brought Dean up short. He turned incredulously to the angel. "Did you just flat out tell her everything?" he asked in exasperation.

Cas shook his head, glad that he was able to at least have accomplished one task that Dean had asked him to do. "No. She figured it out on her own."

"Of course she did," Dean muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. Sam saw the frustration, and tried to jump in to help.

"Bug, you know that Santa's watching, right?"

"Huh?"

"You know. Santa. He's seeing if you're being naughty or nice. And if you're naughty, then he's not going to bring you anything for Christmas," Sam patiently explained, hoping that this would help Natalie see the error of her ways. However, the five year old just wrinkled her brow in confusion.

"No, he's not," she said.

Sam's eyebrows shot up. "Excuse me?"

"He's not watching."

"And how do you know that?"

"Because Daddy told me that you killed him."

Sam's jaw hit the ground. He slowly turned to Dean, but continued to speak to his niece. "He said what now?" Dean shifted awkwardly and looked away from his brother's disbelieving eyes.

Natalie shrugged nonchalantly. "Remember? Santa and Mrs. Claus had you trapped in their house, and made you say Fudge when you wanted to swear, and you had to stab them because they pulled one of your fingernails off?"

Sam fully turned to Dean, who was still actively trying to avoid eye contact. "You told her about that?!" he yelled.

Dean threw up his hands. "She wanted a Christmas bed time story! What was I supposed to tell her?"

Sam spluttered in disbelief for a moment. "Rudolph?!" he suggested loudly. Dean's facial expression suggested that the thought had never occurred to him. He finally shook his head and held out his hands.

"We're getting off topic," he said, attempting to dismiss his poor bed time story choice. He pointed in his daughter's face again. "Listen, Natalie. You do not use Cas to get your way, or to clean up your messes, or to do things you're not supposed to do. You got me?"

She hung her head. "Yes, sir," she mumbled. She looked up at the angel. "I'm sorry, Cas," she said humbly, feeling guilty. He patted the top of her head.

"It's quite alright. I enjoyed parts of today," he said, looking into the face that he found so captivating and familiar. She grinned at him, but it was short lived.

"Hey!" Dean barked at them, making them both jump. They both adopted a posture of contrition at hearing Dean's tone. "This doesn't happen again. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Yes, Dean."

"Good. Natalie, go to your room. You're staying there until dinner, and you better think about what you did while you're up there, you hear me?" Dean commanded, pointing in the direction of the stairs. Natalie sighed. She turned on her heel and started walking towards the stairs. To Dean's surprise, Cas followed her.

"Cas, where do you think you're going?" Dean asked as Natalie started to climb the stairs. Cas stopped at the base, looking at Dean, confused.

"Seeing as how I had a large part in the happenings of today, I assumed that you meant for me to go to her room and think about what I've done as well," he answered plainly.

"Yeah! Cas can come too!" Natalie piped up excitedly.

"March!" Dean roared at her, pointing firmly upstairs again. She didn't need to be told twice. She scurried up the stairs as fast as she could. "Cas, you're not a five year old. You don't need to…" Dean couldn't believe he had to say this. "….go to your room," he finished. Despite his earlier annoyance with his brother, Sam couldn't help but chuckle. Dean rolled his eyes angrily. "Just….next time you watch her, could you just please keep her from creating massive destruction again? Please?"

"I shall do my best, but I will make no promises." At that, Sam sauntered up next to his brother, and stretched out his hand.

"You owe ME twenty bucks," he said, grinning. Dean scowled, dug into his pocket, and slapped a crumpled twenty into Sam's palm before stalking off to the kitchen. No wonder people drank more at the holidays.


	42. Baby Selfies

**Hey, hey, hey, you beautiful member of the SPN Family! How's your day going? Are you having a great one?**

 **I got a lot of requests for some more Natalie/Uncle Sam stuff, so here's one for you! I'll have more Natalie and Uncle Sam coming soon, too. But I've been working on a big story that was requested that I finally feel ready to share with you all- look for it soon :)**

 **All the thanks, hugs, and pie in the world to Jenmm31. She's got brilliant stories in her repertoire, so go check them out! I'm a particular fan of her Kate series and her Emily series, but everything she writes is wonderful. Go show her some love and check them out!**

 **If you have requests, I'd love to hear them. It takes me forever to write them, but I will, I promise! I'm going to focus on requests for a while here, so hopefully if you've requested a story, you'll see it soon. I'll write just about anything as long as it stays in the plot line and is true to Natalie's character.**

 **Okay, fabulous people, please read and review. You make my hunter's heart so happy, I love you all.**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is nine months old. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

Sam couldn't concentrate. Between ruckus of whatever was going on in the motel room next to theirs, and the angry shrieks of his 9 month old niece, he wasn't absorbing any of the information he was trying to read. He knew that he had read and reread the web page in front of him at least three times, and none of it was sticking. He pushed his chair back from the small, stained, fake wooden table of the sleazy motel. Neither he nor Dean had been particularly happy with the location, but they had pulled in late last night, and it had been the only place open. Sam wondered if calling down to the front office would actually get results in dealing with the noise next door. From the little he could make out from their screaming, it sounded like someone had cheated someone out of money on some kind of deal. Sam didn't even want to think what the original transaction was. He had already preemptively packed them up and texted Dean that they were moving motels the second he got back from the case sight. Dean had agreed, but had also sent a list of clues he had discovered at the crime scene. Sam had instantly fired up the laptop and tried to start researching, but with all the screaming, it was getting less and less likely he was actually going to find something. Sam's eyes wandered over to the small playpen, where Natalie was standing, supporting herself, and hollering wordlessly, impatiently.

Sam half smiled, half sighed, as he went to go pick her up. When she saw her uncle coming towards her, Natalie's scrunched up angry baby face instantly transformed into the happy go lucky little angel she usually was. She had just started walking a couple weeks ago. It had been an emotional and exciting moment, followed by intense dread. The hyperactive child was now mobile. This did not bode well for anybody. Sam instantly understood all the hoopla over "baby-proofing" a house. Letting Natalie loose anymore made him a nervous wreck, and Dean wasn't much better. They had previously been plopping her down in her collapsible playpen while they worked, in a sea of stuffed animals, plastic key rings, and other baby whatnot. Up until she started walking, she had been perfectly content with that- her toys were close and she had enough room to crawl around to keep her satisfied.

However, the second she had gotten her feet under her, it all changed. She now wanted to be out, free and able to toddle around to her heart's content. It was proving very difficult for the boys to try to dig into their research with only one eye while keeping the other eye on the little Tasmanian devil. Sam still couldn't believe how fast she had picked up on walking- it was almost unnatural. Sam had checked and double checked his baby progression research. According to Google- purveyor of all knowledge- it was totally normal for a baby to start walking at 9 months. But if they took their eyes off her for more than five seconds, she would have crossed the entire motel room by grabbing on to table legs, sofas, and whatever other furniture she could reach. Sam didn't even know what to type in on the search engine to see if that was normal. He was almost afraid to. She seemed healthy, and Dean wasn't concerned, so he tried to let it be.

A sudden booming crash from next door caused her whining to stop suddenly, as her wide green eyes looked at the wall between the rooms, not understanding where the loudness was coming from. Sam watched as she looked back at him and whimpered. His heart immediately twisted in his chest as he realized that it wasn't just that she wanted out- the noise was scaring her, too. Sam cursed himself seven ways to Sunday for not realizing it sooner. He bolted the rest of the way over to her, and immediately hoisted her up into his strong arms. She was still smiling at him, but wiggling and twisting, a clear sign of her agitation.

"Hey, sweetheart, come on now, you're okay," Sam whispered to her, bouncing her a couple times. She responded by blowing a raspberry- a new trick she had learned courtesy of her father. Sam couldn't help but smile. He grabbed the spit cloth off of the edge of the playpen, knowing that when she started this, the drooling that would follow was akin to having a run in with Slimer of Ghostbusters fame. He knew that there was no way he could put her back in the playpen now; he was just going to have to do the best he could with his research with a baby in his lap.

As another loud crash sounded next door, Natalie let out a very loud and dissatisfied squawk of her own, causing Sam to wince. He took her back to the table with him and set her down in his lap. She immediately threw her chubby baby arms on top of the table and began banging them up and down. Sam reached one long arm out to his keyboard, making sure that it wasn't within striking distance of Natalie's little hands, and started typing. He kept the other arm locked around her little torso. Upon hearing the beloved clickity-clack of the keyboard, Natalie perked up. Sam typed and read as fast as he could; knowing that the distraction would be short lived. She was going to want to get her grubby little paws on it sooner rather than later.

The sounds of the keyboard bought Sam a solid five minutes. Natalie stared at the computer screen as it moved, changed, and lit up. Her eyes would wander down towards the keyboard and watched Sam's long slender fingers typing, creating all kinds of delicious noise that drew her like a moth to a flame. Sam found himself wondering why on earth the sound of the computer keyboard was interesting to her. He dropped a kiss onto the top of her downy head.

"You like the computer, don't you, Natalie?" he said. "Gonna be a great hacker when you grow up? Hmmm?" The baby didn't respond other than to tilt her head the other way as she continued to study the screen. Sam chuckled. The fight next door seemed to be quieting down. He wondered if he could persuade the baby to go back into her playpen for a while if he switched out the toys that were in there. He then shook his head. Man, it was different trying to do this with a baby around. But he wouldn't trade it for the world.

As terrified as he was for his niece, constantly worrying about everything from her toddling around in a strange motel room to the ever-present threat of supernatural attacks, he couldn't deny that Natalie had been a life saver for both him and Dean, but in very different ways. Dean had been still coping with shutting the door on Lisa forever when they'd gotten the call about Natalie. Sam had just come out of the Cage- more scarred and damaged than he was willing to let on. All the things he had survived- all the torment and the torture- he had wondered if he would have been able to handle it coming back. Castiel had given him a lifeline, and he took it, promising himself that he was going to cope and deal with it all for Dean. Dean needed him, and he, for once, had to be his brother's hero. And then, Natalie came along. Sam found a whole new reason to fight. Originally, his first reaction upon hearing that there was going to be a new little Winchester was sheer terror. How could they risk messing up a child's life willingly? He had been totally against keeping Natalie with them- until he met her. When he looked at her for the first time, he saw the good that he had done all his life, instead of only seeing the bad. He saw that the world could be beautiful, instead of the screwed up mess that he had made it. He saw all the lives he saved instead of all the lives he had taken. And he was slowly getting better.

He pulled the baby in close to his torso in a one armed hug, reminded again of how lucky he really was. She promptly drooled all over his arm and giggled. He chuckled again at the absurdity of the direction their lives had taken.

Just then, the screaming started up again next door. He rolled his eyes in frustration as Natalie let out a wail of her own at the loud, angry sound. Sam pulled her in close, winding both arms around her, and stood up. He stormed over to the push button phone on the table between his and Dean's bed. He picked up the receiver and put it to his ear. No dial tone. He tried pressing the buttons in the receiver cradle a few times- nothing. He exhaled heavily, and then hung up. He looked everywhere for a listing of the front desk numbers- he'd just use his cell. Unfortunately, there was nothing-not even a match book. He was gritting his teeth, and had just made the decision to go downstairs and tell the manager himself, when the door to the adjoining room slammed shut from the outside. Sam could still hear the screaming of the arguing couple as they vacated the premises, but their voices were getting quieter and quieter the further they got away.

Sam sighed in relief, and looked down again at the baby in his arms. "Well, hopefully, they're gone for good. And as soon as your dad gets back, we will be too," he said, pulling Natalie in close. She was still upset and agitated from all the loud noise, however. She screwed up her face like she was about to cry. Sam hurriedly started bouncing her, hoping that the motion would calm her down. It didn't work. She started huffing and whimpering, and Sam knew a thunderstorm of tears was on the horizon unless he distracted her, and quick. His eyes darted around the room, looking for a toy, or her blanket, or something to help him out. They landed on his phone, face up on the table.

Without another moment's thought, he raced over to it, still trying to bounce and shush his cranky niece before she could really get going. He sat down at the table, placed her on his lap, and snatched the phone up, his fingers flying as he punched in the pass code. Upon seeing the screen light up, Natalie's attention was diverted again. Her fussing slowed down to a couple of gurgles and the occasional whimper, but for the most part, she was calm. Sam bounced his knee up and down, keeping her moving, which helped as well. Sam frantically looked through his apps, but they were all news, sports, health- nothing but words. Nothing that would keep a baby occupied. Natalie sensed her entertainment was coming to a close just as quickly as it had begun, and started fussing again. In desperation, Sam opened the camera feature, and flipped the image. He then pointed it at himself and her.

Instantly the fussing and squirming stopped. Her eyes got wide- wider than Sam had ever seen them. Her little mouth dropped open as she looked at the screen and saw herself. She reached out and tried to grab the phone. Sam brought it a bit closer so she could see better. The second her hands were around the phone, however, straight into her mouth it went. Sam quickly pulled it away, but he hadn't been quick enough. Of course, she had slimed it. "Eurgh," he said as he grimaced in disgust. "You had to drool all over my phone?" He wiped the slobbered-on phone on the thigh of his jeans, trying to get it dry again. Natalie's eyes and grabbing hands tried to reach down to pull the phone back to her, but Sam's strong left arm around her middle prevented that. She let out a frustrated screech at not getting her way. Sam hastened to bring it back up and in front of her so she could see the screen again. Just like before, she was struck dumb by the moving picture of herself.

"Who's that, Natalie? Huh? Who's that?" Sam whispered playfully to her, watching her reaction in the video. He saw her eyes flick up to the video picture of his face, and the momentary panic at seeing Sam from a different angle, not understanding where his voice was coming from. That little moment scared him- was this too much for her? But as quickly as it came, she seemed to settle down again, staring at his image, then back to hers. Sam smiled at her wonderment, which made her smile too. "Is that the prettiest girl in the whole world? Huh? You're the prettiest girl in the world, do you know that?" As if she could understand what he was saying, Natalie banged her tiny hands on the table, squealing with delight. She reached out for the phone again.

Sam quickly started making faces at her, which caused her to snap to attention again. After staring at him for two solid minutes as he continued to cross his eyes, make duck lips, and stick his tongue out at her, a tiny giggle escaped her lips. Sam's relief at her joy was palpable. He made another funny face at her, and snapped a picture, hoping to get a photo of her laughing. She didn't laugh on this particular face. _Well- I might as well go for it if it makes her happy_ , Sam thought to himself.

He began snapping selfie after selfie of Natalie and himself. The sound of the camera was also intriguing to the baby, and after about seventeen selfies, she finally blurted out a laugh that he managed to capture. He double and triple checked the picture to make sure. There she was- laughing to beat the band. Unfortunately for him, he was making a duck lipped face that looked like it belonged on a Kardashian. Ah, well. Nobody would be looking at him in that picture anyways.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Later that night, much later after Dean had returned and they had relocated to a motel that was quiet and clean, Sam was watching Natalie sleeping in her playpen. Dean was in the shower, after having made sure his daughter successfully went to sleep. Sam stole a few moments of a quiet Natalie, enjoying the rarity. After watching her gently breathing and smiling in her sleep, he quietly went over to his phone on the bedside table. He changed his home screen to the selfie of Natalie laughing. He smiled, and felt his lungs take in a full, deep breath. He hadn't realized how long it had been since he had been able to do that.


	43. The Monkey Wrench Part 1

**Good morning, gorgeous! How are you today?**

 **Alright, you all asked for it- here it is. This is the three part story of Natalie's birth. A couple of you have requested it (my dear guest Kim, and a couple other guests- THANK YOU!) and so, here you go.**

 **Keep those requests coming! I'm trying to write as many requests right now as I can. You all know I take forever to do it, but please be patient and I promise you your story will come up unless it doesn't fit with Natalie's character. That having been said, I recently had a request for a story where Natalie gets really sick with cancer. Normally, I'd privately respond to that, but this person was a guest, so I can't do that. I'm sorry, but there is a reason why that wouldn't happen to her. I don't want to tell you now (can't give away ALL my secrets :) ) but I will work on one where she gets sick with pneumonia or something serious like that. I hope that works!**

 **Thank you all for reading and reviewing. You all make me so happy and fill me with such joy. I appreciate every single one of you. Special shout out to the best beta and dearest friend, Jenmm31. She just published a new story last week, and it's heartwarming, heartbreaking, funny, and sweet. Go check her works out- they're fantastic! Happy Birthday to Aunt Kate from Natalie ;)**

 **Have a great day! Love and Hugs!**

 **A/N- This is the 3 part story of Natalie's birth. Dean is 32, Sam is 28. The first couple paragraphs let you know where this lands in the SPN storyline. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

It was a lovely April morning. The sun was shining, the clouds were a perfect fluffy white against the robin's egg blue sky. The birds were singing their hearts out. But you'd never know it from the interior of the car. The roar of the '67 Impala's engine combined with the radio cranked up to eleven drowned out all that stupid bird song crap. Dean drummed on the steering wheel as "Sweet Child of Mine" blared from Baby's speakers. He sang along to the licks of Slash's infamous guitar solo in the middle of the number. This band had nothing on Led Zeppelin, but even he had to admit Slash was one hell of a rock god. Sam even was getting into it, bobbing his head in time to the music.

They had just cleared a house out of a pesky poltergeist without any damage coming to the family that had been living in it or themselves. The small bags of Angelica root and crossroad dirt had been placed in all the north, south, east, and west walls in the house. The spirit tried to go after the boys, but they moved so quickly it had almost been an open and shut case. The family had had no problems since then, and the Winchesters went on their merry way, instead of being run out of town; a nice change of pace. Eager for their next case, there had been rumors circulating through their small network of hunters of a vampire nest in Utah. Having nothing better to do, the boys set off towards the west.

Dean was uncommonly relaxed. He and Sam had just completed a successful hunt- something he wasn't sure he would ever have been able to do again. About a year ago, when Sam had taken Lucifer to the Cage, Dean had left hunting behind completely. He had gotten back together with Lisa, his old flame, and tried to make a go of a normal life. He hated every freaking second of it, but had stuck to it, because it was what Sam would have wanted. However, when Sam emerged a few months later, back from the dead, Dean had walked out on Lisa, who made it clear that she wouldn't take him back. He knew which way he wanted to go. He had loved Lisa, but it just wasn't enough. All the sleepless nights, wondering about all the people that were dying, all the children getting hurt, all the families breaking apart because he wasn't there to stop the Supernatural- it had taken a toll on him. He had tried; for Lisa's sake, for Ben's sake, for Sam's sake- but his hardwiring couldn't be changed. He had to save people and hunt things. And now that Sam was back, they were back in the family business. Like they had never left.

He glanced sideways at his little brother, wondering as always about Sam's mental health and state. Cas had been able to pull him out of the Cage, miraculously with his soul intact. But the guilt that Sam felt over all of the trouble he had caused had been astronomical. Sam had always been sensitive to others' pain, and to know that he had caused so much of it was nearly unbearable for him. Dean had watched Sam become so depressed that he couldn't get out of bed some days. Those were the times Dean worried the most. Sam was one of the strongest people he knew. To watch him be reduced to a shell of himself was brutal. But they were Winchesters, and Dean wasn't going to let his brother go without a fight. They had been taking it one day at a time- sometimes even one hour at a time. Dean had swallowed his pride, letting Sam talk all his feelings out, even though the idea of getting all Dr. Phil and chick-flicky made him want to hurl. This was his brother. He would do anything to help him, even if it meant talking about feelings.

Sam knew that he couldn't do it alone- he couldn't fight by himself. He had been confiding in Dean more than he ever had before- sharing thoughts and feelings that he used to keep bottled up. The strange thing that they were both discovering was instead of making them both feel like giant thirteen year old girls, it brought them closer. There were still moments that they both clammed up and swallowed their feelings, but every time they let their walls down just a bit, they discovered that it helped both of them. It was strange trying to change their mental programming of not talking about their issues, but when they won even a small mental battle, it made it just a bit easier to keep changing. They had never been stronger as a duo.

As Dean reflected on the fact that his life was starting to feel normal and right again, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket. He pulled it out, and chortled low to himself when he saw the number. "Oh, ho ho. Hello," he purred when he recognized the caller. He looked over at Sam, who reached out and turned the radio down with an inquisitive look on his face. Dean just bobbed his eyebrows suggestively at his brother as he put the phone up to his ear. "Well, hello, gorgeous," he said in his sultry voice as a means of answering the phone. Sam just rolled his eyes. Of course it was one of Dean's booty calls.

"Hey, Dean," said a watery voice on the other end of the phone. Dean instantly sat up straight, pressing the phone tighter to his ear.

"Jamie- what's wrong?" he asked, immediately on the alert. Sam's head snapped over to his brother. He recognized the name.

On their first case after being reunited, Sam and Dean had found themselves in Seattle, Washington. The Supernatural series author Carver Edlund had called them, asking for a favor. The daughter of an old friend of his was in danger. The boys booked it over to the Northwest corner of the country, and had come across a very pretty girl named Jamie, who was being targeted by demons. She had been vague on the details of why they were after her, but the boys had their job- to keep her safe. And Carver had been right- the demons were indeed after her. The story finally came out. She was working with an underground organization that was trying to come up with a chemical solution to deal with monsters. Both Sam and Dean had been stunned to learn that such a place even existed- that more people were aware and active against the supernatural than they thought. They booked it to Washington, almost more out of curiosity than out of the case alone. When the boys had been granted access to the facility and met Jamie, she and Dean had hit it off right away.

"So this is like a...what...Supernatural Johnson and Johnson's or something?" Dean had asked, making Jamie smile. Of course seeing the lovely dark haired woman smile at his jokes gave him all the permission he needed to turn on his waterfalls of charm. When she had explained the chemistry behind the product- which Sam had semi-followed and Dean had nodded through, pretending like he was following- he asked her why they just didn't put salt in the holy water or something. Before Sam could remind Dean that putting anything in holy water contaminated it, Jamie had laughed, causing Dean to grin like an idiot. Sam closed his mouth, knowing immediately what Dean would be up to later on that night.

She had been Dean's first fling after Lisa, and it had restored new life in him. Dean remembered how good he was at playing the field, and in an attempt to continue to get over the heart break he refused to recognize, he had thrown himself back into bachelor life with a vengeance. However, this phone call didn't seem to be a mere "Hey, how are you". Dean could hear Jamie's distress through the connection.

"I just...I need you..." she managed to stammer out before sniffing again.

"What's going on? Are the demons on your tail again?" Dean asked, all business, as he pressed his foot on Baby's accelerator. As the car roared into action, Jamie answered.

"Well, they may be, but there's something...look, I'm sorry, I know you're probably on a case or something-"

"We'll be in Seattle by tomorrow morning."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely. Listen. Do you still have the goofer dust and the holy water we left with you?"

"Yes."

"Good girl. Okay, you know what to do. Sam and I are on the way. Sit tight, sweetheart."

"Oh, thank you Dean...this isn't...I don't want you think...I'm not really...well, thank you."

Dean wrinkled his brow, wondering what she had been trying to stammer out, but when she just abruptly ended her sentence, he cleared his throat. "No problem," he said genuinely. As Jamie hung up, Dean tucked the phone back into his pocket and looked sideways at his brother.

"Is Jamie in trouble?" Sam asked. Dean casually shrugged, but Sam could see the tightness in his brother's shoulders indicating that he was worried.

"Sounds like she's run into something."

"So...Seattle?"

"Seattle."

The last notes of "Sweet Child of Mine" faded as the Impala raced down the highway.

*SPN SPN SPN*

The next morning, Dean took an extra second to make sure his hair was on point before getting out of the car and sprinting up the drive to Jamie's house. They had pulled into Seattle around 3 am, and checked into a motel. They had agreed that, the next morning, Sam would go scope out the old locations where the demons had been bunking last time to see if there had been any recent activity, while Dean checked in with Jamie. His fond memories of the short, gorgeous scientist were enough to put a spring in his step. This girl was HOT. He almost wanted to shake the hand of the demon on her tail for reuniting them, before, of course, blowing the demon to smithereens. The chance to be a hero and save the damsel in distress was always a good time. He walked up to Jamie's door, and knocked. He quickly checked his breath, then he heard the lock turn.

Jamie opened the door, just a crack. He saw her warm, dark brown eyes peer around the door at him, and his heart skipped a beat. She only moved so far in as to put her face around the door, so he could see it better, and he was glad she did. She was still just as beautiful as he remembered. She smiled gently at him.

"Hi, Dean," she said in a light, trembling voice.

"Hey there," he said, his best come-hither smile on. He thought she was going to open the door then, but she just stayed there, looking at him. He chuckled awkwardly for a moment, then shifted his weight as they continued to stare at each other. "So...uh...you called?" he finally said, feeling like an idiot, standing out on his one-night-stand's porch. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and opened the door. Dean finally got a full look at her body.

She was pregnant. Hugely pregnant.

Dean's eyes went from her face to her belly, and fixated there for what felt like an eternity. He pointed to her stomach and managed to get out "Uh..."

"So...I'm pregnant."

"Uh..."

"And it's yours."

"UH..."

"I scheduled a DNA test for the two of us this morning, just so you could see for yourself," Jamie continued, ignoring the fact that Dean seemed to only be able to speak in the same monosyllabic utterance. "We're due at my OBGYN in half an hour."

"UH..."

"Look, I'm sorry to spring this on you like this. I was just worried...you know?" Jamie said, looking up at Dean, trying to get him to make eye contact with her. "I wasn't sure how you were going to take this. I'm sorry I didn't give you a heads up. I know I'm blind siding you here, but I wanted to tell you face to face. I really thought that I could do this alone- that I wouldn't have to bother you, but I just...I can't. I'm so sorry. I didn't know what else to do," she babbled, her eyes overflowing.

Dean, meanwhile, didn't hear a damn thing the poor woman said. He was still trying to get back to a plain of existence where things made sense. The world had just radically shifted, but he couldn't seem to catch up. _Okay, you can figure this out..._ his brain told him, while his common sense screamed You're going to be a father! Dean closed his eyes once, tight, then opened them back up. The belly was still there. Dammit. He was hoping that would have worked. He breathed in and out, which seemed to be a chore. _Jamie and I hooked up about...eight- no, nine months ago..._ that realization made breathing once again a laborious task. You're going to be a father his common sense hissed at him. _We were careful...I was packing a Trojan, and she said she was good to go..._ you know those things aren't infallible. You're going to be a father!... _and now we're going to take a DNA test because...why?_ HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY IT, DUMBASS?!

Dean finally tore his gaze away from Jamie's midsection and back to her face. "I'm...it's...baby?" was all he could stammer out. Jamie just smiled gently.

"Don't worry- I'll drive," she said.

*SPN SPN SPN*

About an hour later, Dean was nervously sitting in a sterile, white room, full of pictures of only God knows what. He was avidly avoiding looking at them- they all had words like "placenta" and "amniotic" and "fetus" on them- he was close enough to barfing from sheer nervousness as it was. He didn't need to look at photos that looked like inside out animals. His eyes darted around the room, desperate to find a safe place for them to land on. His foot bounced anxiously like he had restless leg syndrome.

For the fiftieth time that hour, he began the same sentence. "So...um...you're..."

Jamie just rolled her eyes. "Yup. Still pregnant."

Dean rubbed the crook of his elbow where they had withdrawn his blood about twenty minutes ago. This lab was state of the art, top notch, and had promised results within a half hour. Dean supposed that being a pregnant scientist like Jamie was had its perks when it came to getting tests pushed to the forefront. He nodded in response at her answer, and his head kept bobbing nervously. Jamie tried to ease his mind.

"Dean, look. I know that you're...well...YOU...and that this was never in the plan for you. I tried not to call you, but I just can't do this alone. If you want to-" she suddenly broke off, and tears filled her eyes. _Oh God, please don't start crying again,_ Dean's overwhelmed mind begged. Not being a mind reader, however, Jamie's eyes overflowed. _Dammit._

"-if, after the baby's born, you want to leave, then..."

"No."

The word was out of his mouth before his brain or his common sense registered it. He looked up into the watery chocolate eyes that were staring at him in disbelief. "I'm not going anywhere. Look- if that baby is mine-" he said, pointing at her large stomach, "-then it's a done deal. It's my responsibility too- you shouldn't have to go this alone." _Where the hell did that come from?_ his brain said. You made the right call, his common sense whispered, finally giving him a tiny sense of peace. Jamie smiled at him.

"I'm...I'm really glad to hear you say that," she said thickly. She attempted to smile, but her lips still wobbled as she tried to keep her tears in check."I just know that you'll be a great father. She's lucky to have you."

Dean's eyes widened. "She?" he whispered. Jamie smiled again, and this time, it was genuine.

"It's a girl," she whispered back, her eyes overflowing again.

 _A Girl?_ A Girl.

Just then, before Jamie could do more than wipe away the torrential downpour coming from her eyes, the door opened. A tall, heavyset doctor with a file entered. Dean found himself staring at that file just like he had stared at Jamie for the majority of the morning. The entire rest of his life was in that file. Whatever was printed on those pages was about to change him forever.

Apparently not giving a damn that the young man in the room was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, the doctor opened the file and got right down to brass tacks. "Well, Mr. Winchester, it appears that you are the father. Now, I need to ask. Do I sound like Maury Povitch when I say that?" The doctor chuckled to himself as he looked at Jamie, who was clearly not amused. "Little doctor joke," he said while still chuckling, oblivious of the fact that he was the only one laughing. He closed the file and handed it to Dean, who took it wordlessly. He opened the file himself, and started scanning it. From what he had been able to pick up of medical jargon while on the field, he could see the orders for the test, the checkoff list of what was to be done and to whom, the tests that they had done to both Jamie and Dean's blood samples...and there it was. In one simple statement.

Match: Positive.

Dean's mind cleared instantly. The panic, the anxiety, the sheer terror he had been living in for the past hour were gone. Dean was amazed- what was happening? He felt himself transported to another plane. He had a sudden vision- of a little girl standing in a doorway, looking at him quizzically. His eyes widened as he took her in. She was cute, and very small. Her head was tilted to the side as if she was studying him. She looked like she was about three years old. Her long, black hair rippled in the breeze that was coming from somewhere. Dean didn't care where- he only had eyes for the little girl, and was stunned to find his own eyes staring back at him. He looked down to see what she was wearing, and chuckled to see that she was sporting a tiny Led Zeppelin tee shirt. At hearing his laugh, the little girl smiled a smile that knocked his feet out from under him. He felt the air leave his lungs. Before he could catch his breath, she threw her tiny arms open wide. "Daddy!" she squealed.

Suddenly, Dean became aware that he was standing in the middle of a doctor's office, gripping a manila file as if his life depended on it. He looked up to see both Jamie and the doctor staring at him like he had lobsters crawling out of his ears. He cleared his throat, and felt a ridiculous grin spread across his face. The words "Daddy" echoed in his mind.

"Sweet," he managed to say.

*SPN SPN SPN*

After dropping Jamie back off at her house with the promise that he would be back tonight, Dean numbly walked back to the Impala. He barely blinked or drew a breath as he slid into the driver's seat. Everything was happening way too fast. He wanted to floor the accelerator, and drive into the sunset. But the image of that little black haired girl was burning behind his eyes. He longed to reach out and pick her up, to hold her, to protect her. He knew she belonged to him- and he liked that. He really liked that. Didn't mean he wasn't scared as shit.

Before he really knew what he was doing, he found himself driving by a park. Suddenly needing fresh air, he slammed on the brakes and did a U-turn in the middle of the road, causing a few motorists to give him the finger, but he didn't give a rat's furry ass. He screeched into a parking spot, turned off the ignition, rocketed out of the car, and slammed Baby's door. He almost felt bad for treating her like that- and then his nickname for her suddenly had a completely different tone to it. Baby. He spun on his heel and practically took off running for the jogger's path.

As he shoved his hands in his leather jacket pockets, he bent his head down and tried to untangle his wild, jumbled thoughts. So he was going to be a dad. He was going to be a dad.

 _Holy shit, I'm a dad._

That thought was sobering. Amazing. Terrifying. He had thought about it before. In the couple days when he wasn't sure about Ben's parentage, he had been nothing but panicked. But for some reason, this one felt different. Maybe it was because this one, unlike Ben, was actually his kid. Ben was great- he had been glad to be able to give the kid a father figure for a while. But it never clicked between the two of them. Ben never really accepted him as his father, and Dean wasn't ready to make that commitment without knowing he would be able to follow through. He had been so damaged when he lost his little brother, that he was afraid to get closer to both Ben and Lisa, for fear of losing them and going through that pain all over again. It was excruciating enough to keep everyone at arm's length.

But this time, it was a helpless little baby. The kid didn't ask to be born- she just...was about to be. It wasn't her fault that she existed. But she was going to need someone to take care of her. Dean grimaced when he realized that he really knew very little about Jamie. Was she cut out to be a good mother? Did she even want to be? Well, she hadn't aborted the kid, and she hadn't brought up adoption, so he guessed that Jamie wanted to keep the little rugrat too. That was comforting.

However, when they were talking back in the doctor's office and she had asked Dean if he wanted to leave, she had almost looked- disappointed- when he said he wasn't going anywhere. Like it was bittersweet for her. What the hell did that mean? Was he being too sensitive? When the hell did Dean Winchester get SENSITIVE?!

And for that matter, how had his subconscious taken control of his mouth like that? Not that he minded. It had said the right thing. It was just weird to have his upstairs brain do the talking for him for once. Which, he supposed, was how he got in this situation in the first place.

So what about hunting? His brain was spinning, but seemed to be pointing to this train of thought. Really, there was only one thought. There was no way. There was no way that Dean would ever bring a child into this lifestyle. No kid should be forced into this the way that he and his brother were. So that left him with only one option.

He had to leave the hunting world.

He was surprised when that conclusion didn't bother him as much as he thought it would. Before, the idea of leaving the hunting world was awful- because he wasn't making the choice to do so. Sam had wanted it for him, so he did it. All the families that were broken, just like his had been, had always weighed on his mind. However, now there was a whole new family to consider. His own. Now, he had a reason. A reason he could stick with. A reason that he was okay with. The image of the little girl with the dazzling smile was something he didn't have words for. There wasn't a universe big enough to hold the feelings he already had for her, and he hadn't even technically met her yet. For all he knew, she could come out with red hair and blue eyes, or whatever. But deep in the part of his brain where his most vulnerable feelings were kept, he knew. He knew she was his. He knew she was waiting for him.

So there it was. He was going to leave the hunting world to raise his kid.

He fished around in his pocket for his cell to call Sam. Sam. Boy, was Sam going to raise Cain when he heard about this. As Dean was searching for his cell, a jogger came right up next to him.

"Great day, isn't it?" said the man, who, despite being on a jogging trail, was surprisingly un-sweaty and chatty. Dean just started, looking up at the man, and gave a noncommittal grunt that was more along the lines of "Do I look like I want to talk?" The man ignored it, and kept pace right beside Dean.

"I mean, the trail's barely got anyone on it. I'd say it was my lucky day, you know?"

"Sure thing, buddy."

"Trail to myself, and running into you..."

Those words made Dean stop short. He cautiously slowed down his walk a bit, and turned his attention to the jogger. He stopped reaching for his cell phone in his pocket, and instead, his hand closed around another item.

"It just must be my lucky day," the jogger said. Then his eyes turned black.

Dean stopped moving immediately. The jogger- or, to be more accurate, the demon wearing the jogger meat suit- took a step back. "Good to see you, Dean," he said. "Didn't think you'd be back in Seattle so soon."

Dean knew that tone. "Aredon," he growled. He instinctively took a step back. This was one of the main bastards that had targeted Jamie. "I thought we sent you to take a long nap downstairs," Dean remarked sarcastically.

Aredon smiled that smug smile that Dean _hated._ This bastard had almost gotten the jump on Sam- something that Dean wasn't likely to forget. He had personally sent this asshole back to the depths- or so he thought. "Seems that when the King of Hell heard that the Winchesters were back in town, he decided to call me up from the bench," Aredon said nonchalantly. "And since my brothers couldn't finish what they started...well, like I said, looks like it's my lucky day." And he lunged towards Dean.

Dean quickly whipped the flask of holy water out of his pocket that he'd been gripping onto since realizing who this was. He jumped back, trying to give himself a second to open it, but Aredon was too fast. He knocked Dean to the crunchy dirt road of the jogging trail, and planted his fist in Dean's face. He kept on pummeling him until Dean managed to splash his back with the holy water. Aredon screamed in pain and reared back, giving Dean just enough of an edge to curl his legs out from underneath the demon, plant them in his chest, and send him flying back. Dean quickly got up from the ground and spat the blood out from his mouth.

Once Aredon stopped moaning and got back on his feet, he looked at the eldest Winchester and laughed a sickly maniacal laugh. "If you only came with holy water, boy, this is going to be over a lot faster than I thought," he hissed, taunting Dean. With supernatural speed, he raced at Dean again, but suddenly stopped short. He looked down in disbelief at Dean's hand, gripping the handle of something that seemed to be stuck in his stomach. His wide opened surprised eyes met Dean's gloating ones.

"Demon knife. Never leave home without it," Dean said, his own taunting grin in place. Aredon's eyes sparked and snapped, and then glazed over as he dropped to the ground. Dean wiped his bloody mouth with the back of his hand, and retrieved the knife, looking down at the demon and chuckling. Dumbass. If he was back in Seattle, of course he would be packing against a demon. Moron.

In all the excitement of the last two minutes, Dean had almost forgotten what he was doing out here in the first place. _Oh. That's right. I'm a father,_ the sobering reminder came crashing back into his skull. And he had just decided to leave the hunting world.

In that terrible moment, as Dean looked down onto Aredon's dead form, and then looked at the demon knife still clenched in his fist, a terrifying truth stood right in front of him.

He couldn't leave the hunting world. Because the hunting world would never leave him.

He had taken too many supernatural lives for Hell and Heaven to leave him alone in peace to raise his child. There were too many people gunning for Winchester blood- and not all of those gunning were just monsters. He remembered all too well the hunters who had broken into his and Sam's motel room and shot them both. Thankfully, Heaven's personal gardener or whatever he had been saw fit to send them both back. He knew he wasn't always going to be so lucky. All the things he hunted would always be coming for him.

There was only one way to keep his family safe. To keep his daughter safe. And that was to stay right in the thick of things.

Boy, Sam was going to flip his lid.

 _Sam..._

Dean fished his phone out of his pocket as he continued to stare at Aredon's body. He quickly hit his first contact number. The phone rang twice.

"Hello?"

"Sammy...we need to talk."

 **Stay tuned for Part 2! Thank you for reading!**


	44. The Monkey Wrench Part 2

**Hey Hey Hey! Here's Part 2!**

 **You guys completely overwhelmed me with your response to part 1. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. I wish I could send you all a billion dollars, because that's what you make me feel like. I want to write what you want to read, so keep those requests coming!**

 **Special shout out to the best beta in the world, Jenmm31. Tell your friends how awesome she is, because she is :) Happy Birthday to Auntie JEN from Natalie!**

 **A/N- This is part 2 of a three part story. If you haven't already, go back and read the previous chapter, otherwise this ain't gonna make a lick of sense. Please see Profile page for disclaimer.**

Sam just stared at the paper lying on the table between them. Dean's head was bowed, looking at the floor, while his arms rested on the table. He had a firm grip on the cold bottle in his hand, though. Sam's mind ran around and around, but he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from that paper. Match- Positive. Two words and the Winchester brothers had been rendered catatonic.

Finally, after another two minute long silence, Sam still couldn't find the words. "Dean..." he whispered. To which his brother responded simply by shaking his head. Sam stared at the paper again."Everything in your life is about to change," Sam said quietly.

"No kidding," Dean snorted. Sam picked up the paper again. There was absolutely no mistaking it. There was no chance it was faked. The DNA test was positive.

"Dude- you're-"

"A father."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

Silence. Sam placed the paper down gently, as if he expected it to blow up upon impact with the table. He got up and pulled himself a beer out of the fridge. He turned and leaned up against the kitchenette counter. "So. Where do we go now? What do we do from here?" he asked bluntly. Dean finally lifted his head up and turned to look at his brother. Sam expected to see anger, rage, panic, or even Dean's typical stoic face- the one he always pulled out of his back pocket when he didn't want to deal with whatever emotional freefall was directly in front of him.

Instead, he saw acceptance.

Dean threw his hands up in a casual shrug. "Now," he began, dropping his hands onto his lap, "now we figure out how to do this with a baby in tow."

Sam was beyond stunned. Between the life changing event dropped in his lap, Dean's attitude, and now those words, he felt like someone was pulling a massive prank on him. There was no way Dean was serious. Sam couldn't do anything more than blink a couple times stupidly at Dean. "W-what?" he finally stammered out.

Cool as a cucumber, Dean repeated himself. "I said, we figure out how to hunt with a kid. Dad figured it out. We can too."

Sam openly laughed. It was the only thing he felt like he could do with the absurdity of the moment. "No, Dean, Dad didn't figure it out," he said with a touch of bitterness in his voice.

"What do you call us then? I mean, I know I defy all laws of awesome, and you're pretty okay too, but we didn't do it alone."

Sam paced angrily up to Dean, who reared back when he saw his moose of a brother charging him. "Dad drug us into this life! Do you think this is what Mom would have wanted for us? Huh? To be raised out of a suitcase, dragged from town to town, barely getting a decent education?" The small part of Sam that was still rational knew that this wasn't the major issue, but it was the only one he could find an argument for right now. Arguing while trying to figure out the feels of a situation was one of the things Sam did best.

Dean looked back at Sam coolly. "Well, thanks to that yellow eyed bastard, we'll never know what Mom would have wanted, now will we?" At that, Sam slammed his beer bottle back down onto the counter, turning away from Dean. "Dad kept us together- as a family. He did the best he could, and you know that. Now I'm sorry that you didn't ever feel that- I'm sorry that you couldn't see that keeping what was left of our family together while trying to revenge our family was what was best for all of us."

"Best for all of us?!" Sam practically shouted, whipping around to face Dean again. "Dean, it nearly tore us apart! And it's continuing to! Dad died to keep you from going to Hell! YOU died to bring me back! I died to trap Lucifer in his cage! You really think any of that would have happened if we had just moved to another town and tried to live a normal life after mom died?!"

Dean stood firm. "Yes. I do."

That brought Sam up short. "What the hell do you mean?" he said, smoke practically coming out of his nostrils.

"I mean that Azazel would have come for you the second you started up with the headaches and the visions. And Dad would have laid down his life to save YOU." That comment hit Sam between the eyes. He had never stopped to consider that before.

"Why...what makes you say that?" Sam said quietly, his rage dispersing as he considered Dean's words. A flash of pain crossed Dean's face. Sam stared again as Dean struggled for the words. He put his hands on his hips, looked at the ground, and seemed to take a deep breath before lifting his head up again.

"Because- I get it now."

"Get what?"

"Sammy- I felt it. I get it. I know what Dad felt. I have...I have a daughter. And I felt what it feels like to need to protect your child." At those quietly spoken words, all the fight drained out of Sam. He just stood, looking at Dean in an entirely new way. Dean continued speaking. "I...after I dropped Jamie off, I went and took a walk. Just needed to clear my head and think, you know? But while I was out there, guess who showed up." Sam couldn't do anything but shrug. "Aredon."

"The- the demon who was after Jamie the last time?" Sam said, surprised as all hell. Dean nodded.

"Yup. Somehow, Crowley heard it through the grapevine that we were back in town, so he pulled him up from hell, popped him in a meat suit, and dropped him in the middle of a freaking park."

"Whoa."

"Yeah, no shit. He attacked me."

Sam's already overtaxed brain nearly took a nosedive on hearing that. "Are you hurt?" was the only thing he could blurt out.

"Yeah, Sam. I'm lying in a pool of my own blood on the jogging trail," Dean quipped sarcastically. He rolled his eyes and continued. "I was just out walking- minding my own damn business. This guy jumped me just because I was once on his radar." He let that comment linger in the air. Sam was smart- he'd come to the same conclusion that Dean had. He watched as Sam put the pieces together and began to nod his head.

"Well, then- I think there's only one thing to do," Sam said slowly. Dean nodded his head, glad that Sam was on board.

"We figure it out," Dean said.

"We put her up for adoption," Sam said.

Dean's face contorted into a mask of pure shock. He stared at Sam, his jaw hitting the floor. The silence stretched between the brothers. The tension in the room became even thicker as both boys stared at each other, trying to figure out how the other one had come to that conclusion.

The moment was frozen in time, neither one knowing how to break it. Finally after an eternity of staring blankly at each other, Dean suddenly lunged forward and grabbed Sam by the collar. In his eyes was a burning rage that Sam had never seen before, and it scared him.

"Don't you ever- EVER- say that to me again. You understand?" Dean hissed right in his brother's face. Poor Sam's over exhausted brain couldn't do anything more than stutter out an apology.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. Dean let go of Sam's shirt with a small shove. Sam bit his lip to keep from saying something that he didn't mean. Once he regained his footing, he took a deep breath.

"Dean, all I meant was….."

"Sam, I don't want to hear it," Dean warned, whipping back around, the fire still burning in his eyes. Sam held up his hands as if pumping the brakes.

"Dude. She's going to be in danger if she stays with us," Sam said quietly, cutting right to the chase.

"She's going to be in danger if she's NOT with us, Sam, weren't you listening?! What if Crowley comes for her next time? Huh? Or Meg? Or-" Dean's face suddenly blanched. "Alistair."

Sam watched the blood drain out of his face, and for one brief second, he could see into his brother's mind. Dean was painfully aware of what Alistair could do to a human. Alistair was the bastard that had tortured Dean in hell for thirty years. It was one thing to be tortured, yourself, but to think about your child going through it….Sam's stomach wretched at the thought, so he knew it was a thousand times worse for Dean. Dean just shook his head.

"Sam, she's mine. This kid is mine. And I'm going to do whatever it takes because I'm the reason she's here. If that means figuring out how to hunt with a baby in tow, then that's what I'm going to do. If it means eventually giving up hunting and leaving that lifestyle altogether, then fine. But I will not- I repeat- WILL NOT- walk out on her. Never."

Sam spoke gently. "Adoption isn't walking out, Dean. It's putting your child's needs ahead of your own when-"

"When what? You gonna say that I can't take care of her? Is that it?"

"Dean, we're hunters. We don't know the first thing about taking care of babies."

"So we learn! Did you expect there to be a 'how to raise a kid' manual handed out with the DNA test? Nobody knows, Sam. You learn."

"Dean, we don't have time to figure this out. This baby is going to be here in a matter of days."

"I'm a fast learner."

"What does Jamie think about all this? Are you going to try to convince her that a baby should be on the road, living with hunters? Is she gonna come, too?"

Dean held up his hand. "Not dealing with that right now. I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. The kid gets born first, then we hammer out details."

"Dean-"

"Sam. Just stop. This is happening, okay? And believe it or not, I could really use your support on this." At that confession, Sam's surprised eyes swung to Dean's. "I know, I typically don't ask for help. But Sam-" he could see the change in his brother's demeanor. It was almost like Dean was begging. "Sammy- I …..this is my shot, okay?"

"What do you mean, 'your shot'?" Sam asked cautiously.

Dean took a deep breath. "This is my shot to get it right." Sam's eyes got as wide as saucers. Dean continued speaking. "I screw up all the time, man. With you, with Bobby, with Dad when he was alive. I want- I need someone in our family to know I'm not a failure."

Sam shook his head, trying to follow Dean's train of thought. "Dean, you are NOT a failure-" he began, but Dean interrupted.

"Don't give me that crap, Sam. I have screwed up on a global level, and we both know it." Suddenly Sam saw the situation reversed. He had been so inwardly focused on his own problems and issues, that he had forgotten Dean's propensity to take everything on himself as well and ride the guilt train until it crashed. He suddenly understood that Dean was feeling responsible for the apocalypse, himself- about all the people he hadn't been able to save. He was all too familiar with that feeling. Dean continued. "This kid is my chance to say, hey- I'm not a screw up. I can get something right."

"Dean, you can't put that kind of pressure on yourself. And that's not a good reason to keep a child."

"How about the fact that I already love her more than my own life? Is that a good reason? The fact that I can already tell you I'm willing to die for her?" Dean shot back. "She needs me. She's gonna need- look, we both know what it's like to grow up without a mom. I'm not going to let my little girl grow up knowing what it's like to not have a dad."

Sam just stared at his brother. Dean's absolution on this was so unswerving, he felt the sheer, raw power of it in his words. So Sam did the only thing he could- the thing his brother needed him to do. He nodded his head.

"Alright."

SPN SPN SPN

Three days later, Dean was in the position he never, ever thought he'd be in. A hospital room- with his child being born. Jamie had gone into labor last night, but waited until her contractions were five minutes apart to call and wake Dean. Dean had immediately gone into work mode, pulling his boots on. He had gone to sleep fully dressed, just in case this very thing happened. Within a matter of moments that felt like an eternity to him, he screeched to a stop at Jamie's house, threw all the overnight bags, baby bags, car seats and all that other crap into the Impala, and practically shredded Baby's tires getting to the hospital. They had been checked into a room with irritating soft pink walls. Dean had been getting ice chips, pacing, and trying to help Jamie breathe. And still, the baby hadn't made her appearance yet.

Jamie had been in labor for 12 hours at that point, and Dean couldn't help himself. He looked at the nurse who was checking Jamie's vitals. "So- how long until this kid pops out?" he asked point blank. He turned to a less- than-amused Jamie and, seeing the look on her face, immediately began to back track. "I mean- I'm just…this is really hard."

"Oh. So sorry that this is hard for YOU," Jamie growled, her hands gripping the sheets as her contraction passed.

"No- I….I didn't mean that! I'm sorry. I just…this sucks," Dean finished lamely. "I hate seeing you in this

kind of pain," he murmured, worried that this statement would upset her more. To his surprise, the comment seemed to touch her. She gave a weak smile.

"Dean, don't worry about that. I can handle the pain, okay? I can-" she cut off with a gasp as another contraction hit. Dean jumped up next to her.

"Damn- they're coming faster now, aren't they?" he said in a panicky voice. Jamie couldn't do anything but nod as she concentrated on breathing. "Okay! So…Okay. Okay. Okay," Dean said in a rush, standing up and pacing. The nurse looked over at him like he was an idiot.

"First time father, huh?" she said to Jamie, who just nodded grimly through the pain. The nurse rolled her eyes, which annoyed Dean to no end. As the contraction was easing up, the nurse left to go get the doctor. Dean scowled at her back as she exited the room, then his focus shifted back to Jamie.

"Do you want some more of those ice things?" he asked, almost breathlessly.

"No, I'm okay," she said, laying back against the pillow with her eyes closed.

"You're sweating a lot."

"No kidding."

"Do you want me to…do something about that?"

Jamie looked at him as if he had just sprouted two heads. "What the hell does that mean?!" she said loudly, tired of his clumsiness. Dean backed away from her, just in case she started throwing things.

"Like- a washcloth, or something? I don't know…." he trailed off. Jamie felt guilty. He really was just trying to help, and was completely out of his depth. To be honest, when it wasn't maddening, it was kind of cute to watch him twist in the wind. She held out her hand to him, while leaning her head back against the pillow and closing her eyes again. He tentatively stepped forward and took it.

"You're here. That's enough," she whispered. As much as she meant that to soothe and calm him, it bothered him. He WASN'T doing enough. For crap's sake- his kid was about to make her grand entrance into this world, and all he could do was get ice chips and washcloths and BE there? It wasn't enough for him.

Just then, the doctor walked in. Dean watched as she exchanged a few words with Jamie; none of which he heard. He found himself staring at her distended stomach again. _C'mon kid, hop to it_ , he found himself silently saying to his unborn child. _Winchesters like to get going, okay? So get the lead out. I want to meet you._

"Alright Jamie! Are you ready to push?"

Dean's ears started working right at that moment. "What?! Now? You- What?! Now?!" Dean spluttered out in a rush.

Jamie just gripped his hand tighter, and in response to Dean's mini freak-out, said, "Oh, HELL yes."

"Alright then- here we go- PUSH!"

The next couple minutes were an absolute blur to Dean. Between the sounds of Jamie's cries, her squeezing his hand so hard he thought the bones would shatter, and the undeniable fact that his life was changing at this exact moment, Dean's mind took all of it in and turned it to a big pile of mush. For years, he tried to reconstruct the next few minutes in his memory, never quite being able to do so. However, the next lucid moment was one he'd never forget.

He saw his daughter for the first time.

To be honest, the first moment he saw her, he panicked. What the hell was all that crap all over her? Why did she look like a blue lump of cheese? Was something wrong? The nurse stuck something that looked like a tiny turkey baster into the baby's mouth, and a second later, Dean heard his daughter's voice for the first time. She loudly announced her arrival. Dean moved to see her better, but the nurse whisked her away quickly, laying her down on a nearby mat and starting to get all that weird looking crap off her. Dean swung around to Jamie, his mouth open, a look of shock, panic, and joy in his eyes.

"Is she okay?" Jamie whispered, still breathing heavily from the exertion.

"Yeah- I think so?" he answered back, finding that he was having just as much trouble breathing as she was. Just then, the nurse came over to them, holding a bundle of cloth with something pink sticking out of the top. With another jolt, Dean realized- it was her. She was here. She was actually here and breathing and right in this room. His daughter was here.

The nurse gently laid her down on Jamie's chest. Jamie's shaking hands gently cupped the baby's head and body. The infant was so little that Jamie's hands could have easily touched each other. Dean watched as the tears began pouring out of Jamie's eyes, her mouth formed a perfect little "oh", and she almost began to glow. His heart skipped a beat as he watched the mother of his child kiss her daughter for the first time. She let out a stunned little laugh, then turned her watery, joyous eyes to Dean.

"Dean- look," she said, almost absurdly, as Dean had eyes for nothing but the two of them in that moment. "She's here," Jamie said, her excited whisper triumphant. Dean just nodded his head and swallowed hard. He couldn't tear his eyes away from that little tiny baby. He helped make that. She was a real, live person- and she was his. He felt a rush of pride, of terror, of joy, of protectiveness, and of love that completely overwhelmed him; to the point where he had no words. He leaned forward and kissed Jamie's sweaty forehead, since he couldn't speak.

After a few moments of the new parents gazing in awe at their baby, Dean finally found words. "Hey," he said, afraid to speak in more than a whisper for some odd reason. "Do you- did you pick out a name for this kiddo yet?"

Jamie nodded, and lifted her eyes from her daughter to look Dean in the face. "I did- if that's okay," she said hesitantly. Dean just nodded again.

"What is it?" he asked cautiously, afraid it was going to be something super weird or hard to spell.

"It's Natalie. Natalie Grace," Jamie whispered. "Is that alright?"

"Natalie," Dean said. "Natalie." He said the name a few times out loud. A common name that he had heard all his life suddenly took on new meaning. He found himself loving how it sounded, the way it rolled out of his mouth. It sounded strong and feminine, all at the same time. He turned to Jamie with a grin. "I love it, sweetheart."

Jamie smiled, relieved. "I'm so glad," she murmured, cuddling her daughter again. She suddenly looked at Dean. "Do you want to hold her?"

Dean panicked. What if he dropped her? What if she started screaming the second he touched her? What if he hurt her, somehow? Her freaking fingers were so tiny, he could accidentally push one of them and break her whole hand. But, more than anything, he wanted to try. He had to trust himself not to hurt her. _Just follow your instincts, Winchester. You'll know what to do_ , his common sense whispered again. He nodded, and, with a deep breath, stood up. His hands acted of their own accord- like they knew what they were doing all along. They gently reached down, making sure her head was supported, and cupped his other hand around her body. She fit perfectly into his hands, like she'd been built for that exact

reason. With that feeling roaring proudly in his chest, he lifted his daughter into his arms.

Amazingly, the baby didn't scream. She didn't cry out or anything. Dean was sure that counted as a minor miracle. He found himself gazing at the tiny, squished up, red face in wonder. He had never felt anything like this before. He didn't even have the words to accurately describe it. And the strength behind the feeling was astronomical. He liked it. "Hi, Natalie," he whispered to the tiny bundle in his arms. "I'm your daddy, kiddo."

The baby turned towards the sound of his voice and smiled.

 **Stay tuned for Part 3 :) Love you guys**


	45. The Monkey Wrench Part 3

**Hey Hey Hey Gorgeous! How are you doing today?**

 **SOOOOO sorry for the delay here- I tried all day Friday to post, but the website wouldn't work, and I've had a weekend like you won't believe, so I'm not going to bore you with details. Here's the last part of Natalie's birth.**

 **Special thanks to ALL of you for sticking with me. From the bottom of my heart- know I love you. MAJOR thanks to Jenmm31. If you seriously haven't checked out her stories by now, you need to. They're amazing, just like she is.**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is minutes old :) This is the third part of a 3 part story. If you haven't already, go back and read the last two chapters, otherwise this ain't gonna make a lick of sense. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

Dean stared wondrously into the tiny, red newborn's face. "She's smiling," he whispered.

"What did you say?" Jamie asked from the bed, turning her tired eyes towards him. Dean looked at her. Jamie was surprised to see him looking like a deer in the headlights- albeit a happy deer in the headlights.

"She's smiling- at me," he managed to choke out, then looked down at the baby again. She had snuggled to sleep against his chest, her tiny mouth slightly agape. He looked up at Jamie again. "I swear, just a second ago, I said her name, and she smiled at me." For some bizarre reason, tears sprung to his eyes. Dean clamped his lips closed and swallowed hard to keep them from falling, but he looked back into his daughter's sleeping face. Jamie just smiled gently.

"Sure she did," she said calmly. A sudden rush of anger surprised Dean. He spoke up defensively.

"She did! She just did." He turned away from Jamie, and examined his baby's face again. She was still perfectly asleep, and Dean felt a tidal wave of affection that took him completely off guard. _What the hell?_ he thought to himself. _It's like I just had a baby with all these crazy emotions going off. What the crap is happening to me?_ As he looked down into the newborn's face, he suddenly realized that he didn't really care. All that mattered now was this kid.

"Dean?" Jamie asked. He turned back to her, his little tantrum forgotten. She held out her hands, clearly wanting the baby back.

"Oh, yeah- yeah, sure," he said. The last thing he wanted to do was let this little one out of his arms, but Jamie had done all the hard work to get her here- it was only fair. He walked over to her and oh so carefully tried to hand the baby to her mother. Jamie's sure hands carefully cupped the tiny downy head and body, and she pulled Natalie back into her chest. Natalie fidgeted for a moment, getting used to her new sleeping arrangement, then was right back under. Jamie gave a small giggle.

"Wow- for a newborn, she sure is quiet," she commented. Dean grinned.

"See? Our kid's already the smartest kid in the world," he said proudly. Jamie looked up into his eyes. He was so busy staring at the baby, that he didn't see the single tear that slipped down her cheek as she watched him. She surreptitiously wiped it away under the guise of pushing her hair back out of her face.

"Dean- could you…..would you take a picture of me with Natalie?" Jamie asked quietly, willing herself to stay in control. Dean clumsily fished his phone out of his pocket.

"You got it, babe," he said, opening the camera app. That made Jamie's heart twist even more, but she bit down on her lip to keep the tears from pouring out. "Smile," he said, pointing the camera at mother and daughter. "You too, squirt," he said jokingly to the still asleep baby. He clicked the button, and gazed in awe at the photo- his first photo of his daughter. "Here, I'll text it to you," he said, concentrating on trying to do just that. "The first picture of Natalie," he murmured quietly to himself, the grin on his face going unchecked.

"You really like her name?" Jamie asked nervously. Dean looked back at her.

"Yeah- I really do. It fits her. I mean, I know that's kind of stupid to say- she's not even an hour old. But- I mean- look at her. She looks like a Natalie," Dean said, the smile not even close to leaving his face. "Is there a special meaning behind it? Like, is it your mom's name, or….?"

"No- I just like what it means. With Grace being her middle name, it means 'born of grace'," Jamie said, a sweet reverence in her voice. Dean slowly nodded his head. He didn't know what grace had to do with a one-night stand, but who was he to argue? He leaned forward and kissed Jamie on the forehead.

"It's beautiful, sweetheart," he said huskily. Just then, a nurse came over to the bed. Dean had practically forgotten that anyone else was in the room. She reached down and expertly plucked the sleeping newborn from Jamie's arms.

"Alright, honey, let's get you checked out and make sure you're okay," she said crisply, but not unkindly. She walked over to the clear plastic bassinet and placed Natalie down in it. Dean found himself wandering over towards it, when another nurse came and started wheeling her away.

"Hey, hey, hey! Where are you taking her?" Dean asked, just a little too loudly. The nurse smiled gently. She got this all the time from new fathers.

"She's going to the nursery, just for a bit. After we make sure Jamie's okay, we'll bring her back in again, alright?"

Dean wanted desperately to argue, or to follow her, but he knew that neither was an option. "Okay- just- be careful," he said bossily. The nurse smothered a smile.

"I will, sir. Congratulations- your baby is beautiful," the nurse said kindly. Dean's buttons nearly burst. He couldn't stop the wild smile from spreading across his face.

"Yeah, she is," he said cockily, before turning on his heel and striding back towards the bed. The nurse just barely managed to get into the hallway before she gave into a silent fit of laughter. Back in the room, the other nurse continued to check Jamie's vitals.

"Looks like you're in good shape, honey," she said. "Really good shape. We may even be able to let you go in a couple hours," she commented, a surprised, glazed over look on her face. Dean's head shot up.

"Today? Isn't that- like- way too soon? Are you sure she's okay?" he said in a rush. Jamie placed a gentle hand on his arm.

"Dean, I think they know," she said with a smile. Dean just pinched his lips together, making a bitch face that would have made Sam proud.

"Fine," he said. The nurse finished up and quietly exited the room to give the couple some privacy. Jamie took a deep breath.

"Why don't you run back to the motel and grab a clean shirt? Since it's going to be a couple hours, still?" she suggested. "I'm guessing you'll want to….stay with the baby tonight, right?" she asked almost anxiously.

"Hell yes, I want to stay with you two tonight. Especially if they're releasing you freaking today," he grumbled, still not sure about the whole thing. He leaned forward and kissed Jamie on the forehead again. "Sit tight, sweetheart, I'll be right back." He moved towards the door. Just as he was about to exit the room, he looked back at Jamie and was going to say something, but she had turned her head and was looking out the window. He left without another word.

*SPN SPN SPN*

As the Impala raced towards the crappy motel that Sam and Dean had been living in for the last three days, Dean forced himself to take deep breath after deep breath. But he couldn't stop smiling. He had a million things to worry about- a million things that could go wrong- but for the moment, he didn't care. He had held his newborn daughter in his arms- and the world was completely different. He had always had an almost parental feeling towards his brother- he had raised Sam just as much as John Winchester had- and this feeling was right up there, only intensified. She was actually flesh of his flesh- he MADE her. And she was so little, he felt a herculean strength surging through him to protect her. Once again, he took another deep breath as these intense, strong, overwhelming emotions flooded his being. He supposed it was all part of being a new father. He really leaned into it, feeling these new feelings in the privacy of his car.

"Natalie. Natalie Grace," he whispered to himself out loud. He loved the sound of that. He whispered it over and over to himself as the Impala raced down the road.

*SPN SPN SPN*

The time had come. The nurse had come in, giving Jamie the go-ahead. The doctors and the nurses alike were amazed at how…..normal Jamie was. Being able to leave the hospital the day of birth was nearly unheard of, but there was no reason to keep the healthy young woman. She had been up and about, walking perfectly normally. All her vitals were in check. There were plenty of other babies to be born, so they might as well let this one go home. They brought Natalie back in to the room; Jamie's eyes overflowed the moment she looked at her daughter. The nurse, too used to tears from new mothers, thought nothing of it.

"Where's the handsome father?" the nurse asked, a cheeky grin on her face.

Jamie was barely able to answer back, and her eyes never left the baby. "He's getting the car. I'm going to meet him out front. He'll…he'll come in and get Natalie," she said quietly.

"Okay, honey," the nurse said, a slightly vacant look in her eyes. She quickly exited the room, leaving the mother and the newborn alone. Jamie carefully stood up and walked over to the pile of baby paraphernalia that Dean had carted in. She pulled the car seat out, her eyes instantly overflowing again. Almost methodically, she walked to the bed, set the carrier down, and leaned into the bassinet to pick up Natalie. The movement caused the baby to awake, but she didn't fuss. She smacked her lips a couple times as Jamie pulled her in close. Jamie stood there, in the quiet room for a long while, just cradling her baby to her.

Finally, she laid Natalie down carefully in the car seat, strapped her in, and covered her with a soft, pink blanket. She leaned down, and with trembling lips, kissed the baby delicately on the forehead.

"I love you, Natalie Grace," she choked out. A tear fell from her eyes and landed on the baby's cheek. But Jamie couldn't bear to wipe it away. She knew that if she touched Natalie again, she wouldn't have the strength to do what she needed to do.

Suddenly, she stood upright, turned on her heel, and walked away, out the door. She didn't look back.

In the car seat, the just hours old infant waved her tiny arms. There was a feeling that she didn't like- she was alone. The ones she wanted to be in the room with her weren't there. And there was a wetness on her cheek that was completely foreign and unpleasant. The uncomfortable feeling of the tear combined with the realization of the loss of the ones she wanted to be in the room was too much for the newborn. She started to cry.

No one was there to hear her.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Twenty minutes later, Dean was bouncing his way down the hospital hallway. He was so eager to see his new baby girl again that he didn't care that he was practically walking on air. He was trying to think of how he was going to get Jamie to come hunting with them. Sam had been no help in that field- every time Dean had tried to discuss it with his brother, Sam made the argument again for leaving hunting, period. Maybe once he met his niece, he would get it. Dean hoped he would, anyways.

As he rounded the corner onto the maternity ward, he heard some baby screaming bloody murder. He instantly felt sorry for whoever the parent was, and then realized that it was very likely he was in for quite a few loud times himself. As he trotted closer to Jamie's room, the sound increased. He got more and more nervous as the cry got louder and louder. By the time he got to the room, he was almost running. He hooked his arm around the door and bolted into the room. Sure enough, it was his Natalie screaming. She was buckled into a car seat, sitting on the bed. He didn't see Jamie anywhere, but for the moment, that didn't concern him. He sprinted over to the carrier, and tore the blanket off his baby. His hunter eyes immediately began scanning her tiny form for anything unusual as he struggled to free her from this contraption. Carefully putting a hand behind her head to support her neck, he lifted Natalie into his arms and against his strong chest.

"Hey now, shh shh, it's okay," he murmured desperately, not knowing how to stop babies from crying. However, upon hearing the voice that she recognized, that made her feel safe, Natalie's cries started to dissipate. She grew calmer and calmer until she was silent, snuggling back into the safety of her daddy's strong arms. Dean took a moment, searching the baby's face for indicators that she was going to start screaming again. When he realized that ultimately he had no idea what to look for, he cuddled Natalie close in again, and began looking around the room. Jamie was probably in the bathroom or something.

He walked over towards the closed bathroom door and gently rapped on it. "Hey- Jamie?" he called out, trying to modulate his voice so he didn't scare the baby. He quickly looked down again. Now that she was in his arms, Natalie was once again perfectly calm. Dean pressed his ear to the door. When he didn't hear any sounds, he immediately started to panic. He pushed the door open- but no one was there. His eyes darted around the room wildly, as if he had somehow missed her while she was sitting out here in plain sight. The only thing left in the room was the car seat and diaper bag. With a growing sense of foreboding, he walked out into the hallway. He looked for somebody who could tell him what the hell was happening and where the hell Jamie was.

"Hey- uh, excuse me?" he asked a passing nurse. "Do you know what happened to the young woman who was in here? Jamie? Jamie Ahren?" The nurse looked confused for a moment, then walked over to the chart hanging outside of the room.

"Yes, sir. It looks like she was just discharged about twenty minutes ago," the nurse said matter of factly.

"Okay, seriously- how the hell did she get discharged so soon? She just gave birth this morning," Dean asked again. "Isn't that a little weird?"

The nurse shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you. The doctor signed her out." She held out the chart so that Dean could see. Sure enough, all the signatures were right there, every T crossed and every I dotted. Dean pinched his lips. Now wasn't the time to argue about that.

"Do you have any idea where she went?" Just then, the nurse that had been attending to them came around the corner, wearing a slightly dazed look on her face. Dean rushed towards the woman. "Hey- Nurse? Do you know where Jamie went?"

"Sure thing. She said she was going down to the lobby to wait for you. She said that you would be back up to get the baby," the nurse said, barely pausing to look at Dean. He gave a slight sigh of relief. He didn't like the fact that she had left Natalie all alone, but at least he knew where she was. He walked back into the room and again took in the fact that the only thing left in here was the car seat and the diaper bag. She really must have been feeling okay if she was able to carry her overnight bag back downstairs. He headed towards the car seat, but stopped. What if Natalie started crying again when he tried to put her in the car seat?

He held the baby a little ways away from himself. "Okay, kiddo," he said to her. "If I put you down, are you gonna be cool about it?" The baby blinked sleepily at the sound of his voice, but that was it. He didn't know what he really expected- she wasn't even a day old. He gingerly walked towards the carrier and carefully lowered her down. Okay. This was going okay so far. However, once he removed his hands, she started squirming and her face screwed up like she was about to cry. Dean panicked- the sound of her misery was already more than he could bear. Without really realizing what he was doing, he began to sing, desperately trying to soothe her.

 _She's got a smile that it seems to me, reminds me of childhood memories,_

 _when everything was as fresh as a bright blue sky…_

At the sound of his voice, Natalie's face slowly started to calm down, but she continued to squirm. Dean kept quietly singing.

 _Now and then, when I see her face, she takes me away to that special place,_

 _and if I stare too long, I' ll probably break down and cry…._

Lulled by the soporific sound of his voice, Natalie snuggled down into her carrier and instantly fell asleep. Dean, with the delicacy of a Navy Seal diffusing a bomb, lifted her tiny arms to get the car seat straps in the right place and buckled as he finished the verse.

 _Whoa, sweet child of mine, whoa, sweet love of mine….._

He was amazed. The baby was completely out, as if he had drugged her. He was going to have to remember this little trick. He grinned to himself. Maybe this Dad thing wasn't going to be so hard after all.

He picked up the carrier, and with a grimace, slung the bright green diaper bag with the monkey face on the front over his shoulder. "Why couldn't she have picked like a superhero or a lighting bolt or something?" Dean grumbled under his breath, looking at the fuzzy monkey face. He made his way out of the room.

However, when he got to the lobby, Jamie was no where in sight. He walked outside, looking around, but didn't see her. The foreboding sense he had felt earlier grew. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed Jamie's number.

 _We're sorry. But the person you're trying to reach has a number that has been disconnected, or is no longer in service._

Dean instantly punched in another number.

"Sammy. Get here now. Something's wrong."

*SPN SPN SPN*

Later on that night, in the motel room, Dean paced the floor, Natalie still sleeping in his arms. Sam was passed out on his own bed, but Dean couldn't sleep. He couldn't wrap his mind around everything that had happened today.

Sam had booked it to the hospital after Dean called, meeting him back up in the room that had been Jamie's. It was where he first laid eyes on his niece. He had entered the room, determination on his face. They needed to find Jamie, and this was just another case. But when Sam saw the little bundle in the car seat, he stopped dead. For some reason, it hadn't connected with him that the baby Dean kept talking about was an actual real live person. There was a strange, almost clinical separation of facts for him. The baby was something to keep safe- to keep away from the disaster that could follow the Winchester Brothers. But seeing her, warm and breathing, Sam saw her in a whole new light.

He slowly walked over towards the carrier and stared down at the baby. "Is….is this her?" he asked in a whisper. Dean was too panicked about what may have happened to Jamie to be sarcastic in his response. Besides, he was still feeling the tidal wave of pride and adoration for the little rugrat.

"Yup, that's her. Natalie Grace," he said, walking over towards the carrier by his brother. Sam noted a tone of reverence and pride that he had never heard in Dean's voice before. He wanted to examine his brother's face to see if he could understand where the new emotion was coming from, but he wanted even more to examine the new face in the room. He looked down, and it connected with him that this was family. This baby wasn't a liability- she was blood. A sudden rush to protect and care for her filled Sam almost to the breaking point. Parts of his soul that were dry and hollow since being in the Cage were suddenly parched no longer. He felt a rift in his heart heal- something he hadn't felt for a very, very long time.

"She's….wow…" he said, a single tear slipping down his cheek.

"I know," Dean said quietly. They stared at the baby for another moment, then looked back at each other. At the same moment, they both remembered what was wrong. They did a thorough search of the room, looking for scorch marks, hints of sulfur, anything. Since Jamie had been targeted by demons when they first met her, it only seemed logical that they had taken her this time. But they found nothing. Absolutely nothing. Sam had run down to the lobby, asking any of the desk attendants if they had seen anything suspicious. After speaking to them, he slowly walked back into the room where Dean was still frantically combing the place. He knew his brother wasn't going to like what he heard.

"Dean?"

"Did anyone see anything? Did they see her?"

"…..Yeah. Yeah, they did."

"And?"

"And….she just walked out."

"What do you mean, she just walked out?"

"She walked out of the front door. Didn't turn around. Didn't come back."

"Sam, that's ludicrous. She wouldn't have."

"Except- that she did."

The boys loaded Natalie into the Impala and raced back to Jamie's house, Dean muttering to himself the whole way.

"She'll be there. She's got to be there."

"Dean, she didn't have a car. You drove her to the hospital."

"So she took a taxi! She's gonna be there!"

She wasn't. The boys did another search of the grounds, checking for means of forced entry, and means of supernatural entry. There was nothing. Dean refused to acknowledge what his brain was trying to say. He pushed it down deep into the part of his mind that he never unlocked- the part where he kept his darkest thoughts. He shoved Sam into the Impala and they burned rubber back to the motel. Sam, who was slowly coming to grips with what was happening, didn't want to mention that Jamie didn't know where they had been staying. Dean was clearly in denial- let him accept the conclusion in his own time.

When they threw open the door to their room, they got the surprise of their lives. The room was filled with everything a baby could possibly need. A bassinet, boxes of diapers, piles of clothing, cans of formula, both pre-mixed and the dried kind. The amount of things that were stuffed into the room was unbelievable. But Dean only had eyes for one item. There, on the table, a note quickly scribbled on the motel stationary.

 _I'm sorry. Jamie._

Dean stared at the note, frozen in time. The truth of what was happening crawled out of his dark, locked up box in his mind and stood in front of his eyes, unforgiving. He couldn't make it go away, no matter how hard he tried.

Jamie had abandoned Natalie. She had damned his daughter to growing up without a mother- just like he had had to.

He continued staring at the note, not wanting to move, not wanting it to be real. His brain couldn't function. He didn't understand. How…..why….what…..he couldn't wrap his head around it. The overwhelming emotions threatened to overtake him again, but this time, they were anger. Fear. Distrust. And a whole ocean of Rage.

These were emotions he knew. And he knew what to do with them.

He crumpled the note in his fist and threw it in the trash. He walked calmly over towards the carrier, which had been sitting safely in the middle of his bed. Without a word, he pulled his daughter out of the car seat, and hugged her close to his chest. He began to pace, walking her all around the room as she slept. He kept at it for hours, not saying anything, and only stopping when she was hungry or needed a diaper changed. Finally, Sam went to sleep, too exhausted from the emotions and drama of the day to stay awake any longer.

Dean kept pacing. Every step he took furthered his resolve. Every footfall bonded him closer to the child resting in his arms. Around midnight, she squirmed, and he stopped. He held her out a little ways from himself so he could see her. She had woken up a few times before this, being hungry or wet. Earlier, Sam, who had Googled "How to take care of Babies", had handed him bottles every time it happened, but this time, Natalie didn't seem to be hungry- just awake. She blinked sleepily at him, and smiled again. That smile was all Dean needed.

"Hey, kiddo," he whispered gently. He bounced her a couple times, but she seemed perfectly content. He needed to say everything to her. He wanted to give her the world, to assure her that her life was going to be amazing, but he only had one thought coming to mind.

"I'm gonna screw up so bad with you," he said, tears springing to his eyes. "I don't want to. I want to be perfect. I want to be the dad you deserve. I don't know how to do that- I don't have a freaking clue. But- if you live up to your middle name, and grant me a little grace, then by God I'm gonna try. I'm gonna give you everything I got. Because you deserve it, kid. You don't deserve a screw-up. I want…Natalie, I want to be your hero. Okay? I want to be the one you run to when you're scared. And it's okay to be scared. Hell, I'm scared out of my mind right now. But if I can help it, you're never gonna have to worry about that. You're never gonna be scared. Not as long as I'm around. I'll always protect you. I'll always be here for you. We're gonna go through a lot, you and me. And your Uncle Sam, too. He's really great- you're gonna love him. But kiddo, it's just us against the world. And the odds aren't in our favor. But I promise you- I'm gonna win. For you. Because- I love you. You hear me? I love you."

Natalie smiled and snuggled back to sleep. And for the first time in hours, Dean smiled too.


	46. The Fun In Dysfunctional

**Well good morning, beautiful! How are you today?**

 **My apologies for taking so long to publish. Things have been NUTS, but I'm back! I've had a lot of requests for Natalie milestones, so the next couple are going to be just that. Keep those requests coming!**

 **A special thank you to Jenmm31 who not only kept me sane through this entire last two months, but also helped me out in a super cool way- be on the look out for that soon! And thank you to all of you for sticking with me- it means more to me than I can tell you. You all are my heart.**

 **Please read, review and enjoy!**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is 8. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

"Well, that was interesting," Sam said, dropping heavily into the Impala's passenger seat. He rubbed his hands on the front of his coat, still feeling like they were covered in human goo. They had spent their morning at the morgue, doing research on their new case. Sam had been the one to put on the gloves and pick up the scalpel, as usual. He had scrubbed his hands and arms four times at least after performing the pseudo-autopsy, but couldn't shake the phantom feeling of the blood and other various fluids associated with the human form. He looked at his brother with an annoyed expression as Dean pulled on his seat belt. "How come whenever we go to the morgue, I'm the one who always ends up cutting into the corpse?"

"Because you went to medical school," Dean answered as he put the car in reverse and pulled out of the parking lot.

"Dean, I was going to law school."

"Same thing."

Sam just shook his head. The case they were currently working on was still up in the air when it came to the perpetrator. The victim's body had been found near the edge of the woods, with very obvious slash marks on his neck and chest. At first, the boys thought it was a hellhound, but after examining the body closely at the morgue today, Sam was beginning to think that they were dealing some kind of werewolf-type creature. He was anxious to get back to the motel and start researching their findings with Natalie. As if he was reading Sam's thoughts, Dean looked over at him.

"Hey," he said. "You think Natalie's finished her homework yet?" he asked anxiously. Dean loved watching Natalie's face light up when she was given supernatural research to do. His kid was so damn smart; she totally got off on being a part of their research team. He grinned with pride, thinking of all the cases that she had identified so far, and she was only eight. She was forever hinting that she could do more with her own laptop and cell phone, but Dean wasn't quite ready to have her reach that level of maturity yet. She was doing fine on his phone and laptop under his watchful eye. Nevertheless, he was excited to turn their findings over to her and let her go to town.

To answer Dean's question, Sam said, "Probably. I wanted her to read up on the Lesser Key of Solomon. She's been having some trouble with her Latin lately. She needs the extra practice."

"Ah, she'll get it," Dean said dismissively. Natalie had conquered everything she had put her mind to. Falling behind in Latin didn't concern him too much right now- she'd be fine. However, Sam was getting used to Dean's lacksidaisical attitude about certain aspects of Natalie's education, and it drove him crazy. Dean was so completely convinced that Natalie would just "get" any and every concept that they threw at her, that he would often brush aside Sam's concerns and suggestions.

Sam, however, was taking a much more practical approach to his niece. She was always so eager to learn- to a point. If she didn't like a subject, or if something else that interested her more grabbed her attention, her focus would immediately shift in that direction, and she would "forget" whatever the original subject was in favor of the new and (in her mind) more interesting one. Sam could usually bring her back around to the original issue, but dealing with a stubborn eight year old Winchester was not among his favorite things.

"Dean, I need you to back me up on this," Sam said, a tone of force in his voice.

"Back you up on what?"

"If she hasn't finished her Latin, I don't want you dangling this research in her face. You know her- she'll completely push her homework to the side and jump all over this. You can't let her keep doing that."

Dean just rolled his eyes. "Sam, she's the smartest kid in the world. She knows almost every exorcism by heart at this stage in the game." He looked sideways at Sam, challenging him. "Tell me I'm wrong."

Sam had to acquiest. "You're NOT wrong, but-"

"Then quit harpin' on it. She's fine."

About ten minutes later, they pulled into the parking lot of their motel. Dean saw the curtains to their room part slightly. He furrowed his brow as Natalie opened the motel room door and stepped outside. Unusual behavior for her. He thought to himself that she was probably just having cabin fever. If he'd had to stay in a room, cooped up with nothing but Sam's Latin homework assignments, he'd be climbing the walls too. She shut the door behind her, and looked at them expectantly.

Dean chuckled under his breath as he unbuckled and exited the car. "Couldn't wait to see me, huh?" He sniffed coolly and shrugged his shoulders. "I know. You're not the first," he said cockily. Natalie giggled in response.

"How was the morgue?" she asked. Dean's brow furrowed again. There was a tone of excitement in her voice- not that that was unusual, but she sounded a bit more- something- than normal. He couldn't quite put his finger on it.

"Ah, you know. Cold, weird lighting, smelled like formaldehyde. The usual," he said, his eyes on his daughter. Sam walked up beside him, and they both made to go towards the door, but Natalie was still standing in their way, her hand on the knob behind her back.

"Did you find anything cool?" she asked quickly. Dean noticed the tone of her voice rise just a bit. It almost sounded like panic, but that couldn't be right. She was just probably over excited.

"Cool?" Sam asked, one eyebrow raised at the choice of adjectives. Natalie rolled her eyes, looking exactly like Dean. She waved a hand dismissively.

"You know what I mean," she said. "Did you find anything on the case?" Her eyes danced excitedly back and forth between the two older Winchesters. Dean immediately got caught up in her excitement, forgetting everything that he and Sam had talked about in the car. He reached in his pocket and withdrew the small evidence bag that he and Sam collected at the morgue.

"Sure did," he said, holding it out for her. His heart leapt when her eyes lit up, just like he knew they would. She reached out and snatched the bag from him, turning it this way and that in front of her, looking at the object. "Sam pulled that out of the guy's chest cavity. It looks like some kind of claw. At least, that's what I think it is. What do you think?" Dean asked.

Sam sighed, frustrated that Dean was, yet again, ignoring his advice. "Natalie," Sam began in his own firm tone. He looked at her to see if it made any impact. She appeared not to have heard him- she only had eyes for the claw-like object. Sam gritted his teeth. "Did you finish reading through the passages I gave to you?" Even though she wasn't looking at him, her feet shuffled a bit back and forth.

"Um...mm-hmmm," she said, avoiding eye contact. Sam pinched his lips together. Ever since she had started to talk, he had an uncanny ability to tell when she was lying to him. Probably because she was so bad at it. But it wasn't just the shuffling feet or lack of eye contact that tipped him off. It was almost like he felt a rush in his blood when she lied. He couldn't explain it, so he just chalked it up to the fact that he was generally more observant than the masses, and could tell more easily. And he had no problem calling her out on it. However, Dean beat him to the punch, but not in the way he would have liked him to.

"What do you think it is?" he asked his daughter again, caught up in watching her. He pointed to the bag in her hand.

"I think you're right- it really does look like a claw," she murmured, holding the object up to the light as to better examine it. "You say it was in the guy's chest?"

"Do you two even hear me when I talk?" Sam asked loudly.

"What?" Dean asked blankly, turning his gaze towards his brother. When Sam just shook his head, Dean looked back at Natalie. "Come on. Let's hit the books; see if we can identify this thing." He expected her to squeal with delight and bolt through the motel room door. But instead, her face turned white. She quickly looked up at him, and her hand automatically shot back towards the doorknob, gripping it tight. She pressed her back to the door, blocking either of them from the knob.

"No! We should...do something else!" she said in a hurry. Both Sam and Dean's eyebrows shot up at that statement. It wasn't like her to turn down research, especially to get out of doing homework that she hated. They exchanged a surprised glance. She quickly looked back and forth between them, knowing that she needed to offer some explanation for her strange behavior. "I'm...food!" she finally spat out.

"You're food?" Sam asked, confused as all hell. Natalie's eyes widened. She shook her head quickly.

"I mean, I'm hungry. I'm food- ha! Why did I say that? I'm not food. That was weird. Let's go eat!" she said in a rush. Sam looked at his niece like she had grown two heads.

"Natalie, why are you acting like this?" he asked. Dean, however, had caught on quicker than Sam for once. He folded his arms, and got a very stern look on his face. Sam watched his niece wither a bit at getting The Eye from her father.

"What did you do?" Dean said, his voice dropping about two octaves. It was his typical interrogation voice, which was enough to make anyone wither. Natalie fidgeted for a minute, her back still firmly planted against the door.

"Nothing!" she said, her own voice rising as she tried to play innocent. Now it was Sam's turn to fold him arms.

"Yeah. I don't need my superpower to tell that you're lying to us," Sam said casually. He watched as her eyes darted back and forth between them again, before finally owning up. Her eyes dropped to the pavement outside their door.

"Okay, something. I- sort of- did… something. But it was an accident!" she said, her head jerking back up as she pleaded the last statement.

"Are you hurt?" Dean pressed, not dropping his arms or The Eye. Natalie shook her head.

"No."

"Did you damage something in the motel room?" Sam asked.

"No."

"Did you hurt someone else?"

"No! Well- not...I mean, technically, NO, but..." she stammered. That was all Dean needed to hear.

"Move," he commanded, jerking his head to the right, indicating that she should vacate her post from in front of the door. She wriggled and fidgeted, but didn't move.

"Okay, you have to promise you won't get mad," she begged, looking right at Dean. His expression didn't change one iota.

"Nope. Move. Now."

"But it was an accident!"

Dean's blood pressure was just about to blow his head clean off his neck. He snapped his fingers and jerked his thumb away from the door. Natalie's eyes got wider with terror. When Dean stopped speaking, she knew she had a matter of nanoseconds to obey or she was dead meat. She dropped her eyes again and stepped away from the door.

"It was an accident," she mumbled desperately as Dean stepped forward and grabbed the door knob. He quickly twisted it and shoved the door open, expecting to find the room in shambles, or on fire, or something of the like. What he wasn't expecting was to see a pudgy thirty-something year old man in a blue polo shirt, cargo shorts, and a rather unfortunate haircut standing in the center of the room. The man looked like a lost tourist. Dean immediately drew his .45 and pointed it right at the man, not giving a damn that he looked like a PTA Dad.

"Hey! Who the hell are you?" he shouted. All kinds of scenarios ran through his head as to why his eight year old daughter was trapped in a motel room with a man in his mid thirties, and every single scene made him see red. His finger was itching to pull the trigger, but by the grace of God alone he abstained. Sam drew his own firearm at the same time Dean did, but looked quickly around the room. He noticed a most unusual thing. He tapped Dean on the arm with the back of his hand.

"Dude, look," he whispered, pointing to the man's feet. Dean didn't want to take his eyes of the scumbag that had been in the room with his daughter, but followed Sam's orders and looked at the man's feet. The first thing he noticed was the man was wearing tall black socks with brown leather sandals. Then he noticed that he was standing- on a notebook. Dean's eyes went wide in surprise, and then flicked back up to the man's face. For having two handguns pointed directly at his chest, the man seemed terribly unconcerned. Dean's gaze narrowed at the man.

"Go ahead. Shoot. Much good it'll do you," the man said jovially. Sam's jaw dropped- who the hell was this? That's when he noticed the large circle of salt on the floor around the man as well. Sam looked back at the man.

"I think the question here is- WHAT the hell are you?" he said, his own voice ringing with stress and anger at the idea of this- whatever it was- in the same room as his niece. The man smiled like they were old chums. It was creepy and just a little funny.

"What? The little princess didn't tell you?" he said in a sing-songy voice.

"Stop calling me that!" Natalie suddenly shrieked from the doorway. Dean's hand automatically shot back towards her, as if to keep her behind him. The man chuckled, a low, goofy sound. He leaned around to get a better look at Natalie.

"Um- no. It's fun watching your face get all red every time I call you 'princess'," he said tauntingly with his gap toothed grin still in place. Dean heard Natalie growl behind his back, which raised his hackles even further.

"Well, I'm about to watch YOUR entire body get all red when I blow you to kingdom come for being in the same room as my daughter," Dean spat back at the man. Seemingly unfazed by the threat, the man rolled his eyes dramatically and chuckled a belly laugh.

"Weren't you listening?" he said, pointing to the gun in Dean's hand, then smiling like he was pointing at a kitten. "Bullets. No good."

"It'll still make me feel better to load you full of them," Dean growled at the man. Suddenly, the man's eyes turned black as obsidian.

"Knock yourself out, pretty boy," he said. Dean and Sam both stood up straight. Sam turned to Natalie, an expression of disbelief on his face.

"You trapped a DEMON in the motel room?" he said, his eyes almost jumping out of his head. Natalie's eyes flicked up to him for a second. Then she took a deep breath and nodded.

"YES," she said breathlessly. "That's exactly what I did. I trapped him," she said. As Sam turned away, she muttered under her breath, "Technically."

"What?" said Sam, turning back to look at her.

"What?" she responded, her eyes wide with innocence. Dean, however, had another question that just couldn't wait. He looked up and down at the demon.

"Alright, I gotta ask," Dean said. "Don't demons usually go for a…slicker model to pop into?"

"What?" the demon said, turning his head and looking like a confused puppy. Dean gestured to the pot belly and the old man footwear. "Oh. Well. Short notice, you know," the demon said dismissively of his D-list meat suit. He didn't appear to be upset by the young, pudgy, Santa-Claus-on-vacation look. Dean shrugged and turned back to Natalie.

"So you trapped a demon, huh?" he said, the corner of his lips pulling up with pride. Natalie's wide eyes took him in as she just nodded in the affirmative.

"Aww, come on, Princess! Tell him the whole story!" the demon said, his eyes flicking back to their human brown color. Natalie gritted her teeth. Dean's own eyes shifted then- the touch of The Eye was back. She gulped.

"What's the whole story?" Dean asked, his eyes narrowing a bit. She launched into her explanation.

"Well, I had practiced drawing devil's traps in that notebook," she said, pointing at the demon's feet. "When he came at me, I threw the notebook in his path. He stepped on it and got stuck, then I poured a ring of salt around him, just in case."

"Well, that was quick thinking, Bug," Sam said over his shoulder, not wanting to take his eyes off the demon. Dean, however, wasn't buying it. Something still didn't add up. Before he could question it, the demon huffed and looked offended.

"Pretty easy to trap something if you're the one who summoned it," the demon said sulkily. Both Sam and Dean did a slow burn back to the child standing behind them, twisting her foot into the carpet nervously. A good ten seconds of silence followed. Then suddenly-

"YOU SUMMONED A DEMON IN THE MOTEL ROOM?" Dean roared, causing Natalie to flinch again.

"I said it was an accident!" she shrieked back in a high-pitched voice.

"No- an accident is spilling hot chocolate on the carpet, not summoning a freaking DEMON!" Dean he scolded, but before he could yell again, Sam broke in.

"How do you ACCIDENTALLY summon a demon, Natalie?!" he asked, his own voice rising. Natalie cowered even further. If Sam was yelling too, she knew she was really in for it. But instead of apologizing again, her Winchester temper got the best of her.

"It was YOUR fault!" she said hotly to Sam. Sam stepped back at her accusation in disbelief. Dean spoke the words they were both thinking.

"You wanna explain yourself, little girl?" he growled, furious at the disrespectful tone that was coming out of his kid's mouth. That got Natalie's brain back on track- she knew exactly how her father felt about showing either one of them disrespect. She gulped again, and modified her attitude before he tore her limb from limb.

"Well, I was doing my homework like you told me to, " she said, directing her words at Sam. "I was reading the Lesser Key of Solomon, and I got to the part where it talks about summoning demons with rites and incantations," she explained rapidly, running out of breath before she could finish the sentence. But before she could speak, the demon broke in.

"Hey- uh, before you all sort out the family drama here, someone wanna let me go?" he said, bouncing on his heels. All three Winchesters ignored him. He huffed like a two-year-old. "Well, that's just garden-variety rude," the demon said haughtily. Natalie rolled her eyes and continued her explanation.

"All the stupid incantations are in Latin," she said, a grumble in her voice. Dean's eyebrow raised at her choice of words. She caught the glance, and looked back down at the carpet abashedly. "Latin is hard for me to read, so I- kinda did what Uncle Sam suggested I do when I don't understand something," she said, her voice growing fainter towards the end of her explanation.

Sam's head tilted back, and his eyes closed. He knew exactly what she meant by that. "You read it out loud," he groaned, finishing her sentence. Natalie just nodded, then scuffed her toe into the carpet.

"I said it was an accident," she mumbled again, not looking up.

"Natalie! What have I told you about reading Latin out loud when you're by yourself?" Sam scolded.

"That's a conversation you all have had before?" the demon piped up in his goofy voice. "That's weird. You know that, right?" Again, all three Winchesters ignored him.

"That I'm not supposed to," Natalie mumbled, then looked up right at Sam. She knew Dean would make her look him in the eye eventually, so she wanted to go ahead and get it out of the way. "I guess I just forgot."

"You FORGOT?!" Dean roared again. Natalie's foot violently twisted into the carpet again.

"I got frustrated because I couldn't understand it by reading it, and I just...forgot," she finished miserably, knowing the excuse wasn't going to hold up. "I didn't realize that I was speaking it out loud- I was just kind of mumbling it, but I guess it was enough," she said, looking Dean right in the eye."I'm sorry, you guys," she said, looking back and forth between the two of them. Now that the story was out, Dean saw the slightly funny side of it. He shook his head, trying to keep the smile off his face and the serious tone in his voice.

"Yeah, yeah, okay. I get it. It WAS an accident," he said, a touch of his growl still present. "I know you didn't mean to summon the demon on purpose-"

"I'm right here. Don't talk about me like I'm not here!" the demon shouted from his trap. Dean turned his death glare on the demon.

"Shut up," he commanded, before turning back to his daughter. He opened his mouth, but the demon spoke again.

"Kyle."

Dean whipped his head back towards the demon. "Excuse me?" he barked.

"Shut up, _Kyle_. My name is Kyle," the demon said in a superior tone of voice. "If you're going to tell me to shut up, at least you can use my name."

"You're a demon- named Kyle?" Sam said, the words sounding ridiculous to his ears even as they came out of his mouth. Kyle the Demon shrugged.

"That's the name of this meat-suit, anyways," he said offhandedly. "We can't all have names like Alastair and Samhain, now can we? Which reminds me," he continued smugly. "Meg sends her regards."

"Who's Meg?" Natalie piped up, her curiosity getting the better of her, even at a time like this.

"Later," Sam muttered at her. Natalie pinched her lips at getting dismissed, but wisely chose to not pursue the issue.

"Fine. Then shut up, _Kyle,"_ Dean spat sarcastically at him.

"THANK you. Now was that so hard?" Kyle said patronizingly. Dean pinched his eyes closed, took a deep breath, and turned back to Natalie.

"Okay, kid. You summoned a demon- by accident," he said, cutting her off before she could interrupt him with the statement again. However, the demon piped up again.

"Most kids just make macaroni art and shoe box dioramas and stuff. Not spit out spells to summon Hell's angels," he said, tilting his head to the side as if trying to understand it all.

"Shut up, Kyle," Dean barked at him again. Kyle threw up his hands in mock surrender.

"Ooo, touchy," the demon teased. Dean whipped his head around towards Sam.

"Let me shoot him. Just once," he begged his brother.

"Dean, no. There's still a person in there," Sam said, trying to calm his brother down before his fuse got any shorter.

"Just in the foot. Or the knee."

"If he doesn't stop interrupting you, then yes, you can shoot him."

"Do I get a say in this?"

"Shut up, Kyle!"

Dean turned back to Natalie. He knew she felt bad, even though it really had been an accident. He pinched his lips at her and tilted his head, like he was thinking. He eyed her up and down once, causing her to freeze on the spot. He quickly nodded his head, once, seeming to decide something. He walked over towards the small kitchen area of the room, and pulled a large cooking pot out of the cupboard-normally the kind that one would boil potatoes in. Sam was taken aback. He had no idea what his brother was doing with kitchen supplies.

"Uh- Dean? Whatcha doing?" he said, on alert. Dean didn't answer. He walked over to the duffle bag next to his bed. Natalie looked up at Sam, her eyes begging him to tell her what her father was up to. Sam just shrugged helplessly- he didn't have a clue. Dean withdrew a flask of holy water from the duffle, and upended its contents into the pot. The water gurgled and splashed as it began to fill the pot.

"Hey, hey, hey now- there's no need for holy water," Kyle said, his own voice laced with panic now. "It was the princess summoned me, I didn't choose to come here-"

"Stop CALLING me that!" Natalie roared at him, stomping her foot. Kyle kept speaking like she hadn't interrupted.

"I'll leave you all alone right now. I'll get out of your hair. I got no beef with you Winchesters- I know what you do to demons," Kyle said, eyeing the pan with terror. Natalie, however, momentarily placed her annoyance aside at hearing the demon's statement.

"You've heard of us?' she asked the demon, intrigued. It was Kyle's turn to look at her in disbelief.

"Are you kidding? The Winchester Brothers are freaking famous in Heaven and Hell. Even you've got a fan club for nailing Crowley in the nuts, princess. If you all weren't trying to kill me with a pan of holy water, I'd be kind of fanboying out right now," Kyle said in admiration. "We should do a selfie!" he said excitedly.

"Pan ain't for you," Dean threw back at the demon, twisting the cap back onto the now empty flask. Sam, Natalie, and Kyle's eyebrows all shot up in surprise at Dean's proclamation. If the pan of holy water wasn't for the demon, then what in the world was Dean doing? Dean carried the water filled pan towards a surprised Natalie. "Take off your shoes and socks," he ordered.

"This is a weird time to be doing a foot-washing ceremony," the demon said informally. Dean turned to him, an evil grin on his face.

"Oh, this ain't no foot washing ceremony, either," he said, as Natalie hastened to obey her father, stripping off her sneakers and socks, still having no idea what he was doing. When she was barefooted, Dean placed the pan in front of her. "Get in," he said casually, pointing to the pan. Natalie looked at him in disbelief.

"Dad, I'm not possessed," she said as she nonetheless carefully stepped into the pan of water. Dean reached out and took her by the hand so she didn't fall.

"I know you're not. But I'm not taking any chances letting you do this," he said, watching to make sure both her feet were submersed in the water.

"Letting me do what?" she asked cautiously. Dean shrugged.

"You summoned him, it's only fair that you should get rid of him," Dean explained. Natalie's mouth hit the floor.

"You mean I get to exorcise him?!" she said excitedly. "Really? I get to do that?" Dean couldn't help but smile at her enthusiasm.

"Yup."

"But- what's with the holy water?" she asked, perplexed.

"Like I said- not taking any chances. You're standing in that pan until this bastard's gone for good, you hear me?" he said, making sure Natalie understood him fully. She nodded vigorously. "Alright. I know you know the exorcism. You good to go?"

"Yup!" she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement at this turn of events.

"No time like the present, then," he said. He turned to look at Sam, expecting a fight over letting Natalie do the exorcism. Sam had a look on his face that clearly was torn at the idea, but upon seeing the determination in Dean's face, he nodded his head in agreement. Dean bobbed his eyebrows once at Sam as a thank you for not fighting him on this.

"Hang on, hang on. You're gonna let the princess do an exorcism?" Kyle said, his voice rising with hysteria. Natalie just growled at the word "princess" again. Dean grinned at his tough little girl, then fixed his steely gaze on the demon.

"Shouldn't have called her 'princess', Kyle. Now she's gonna make you heave split-pea soup. So- have fun with that," he said flippantly. The demon's eyes darted back and forth between the brothers, disbelieving the situation.

"I'm getting driven out by an eight year old?! What is this, Baby's First Exorcism?!" he whimpered. Dean looked at Sam with an astonished grin.

"Baby's First Exorcism. Huh. How 'bout that, Sammy?" he said. He turned towards Natalie, and pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Smile!" he said to her, a tone of joking in his voice. She obliged, and Dean snapped the picture. He turned back to Sam, a cheeky grin on his face. "Bobby's gonna want to see this," he said, gesturing his phone at Sam before sliding it back into his pocket. He stepped in between the demon trapped on the notebook and his daughter still standing in the puddle of holy water. "Sam, get on the other side of him," he ordered, all business once again. Sam quickly stepped behind the demon, knowing what Dean meant. After they exorcised the demon, the human being would collapse, unconscious. Sam would need to catch him so he didn't hurt himself. Once Sam was in place, Kyle whipped his head around desperately, looking at Sam, then Dean, then Natalie.

"You guys are one seriously dysfunctional family," he said, the alarm clear on his pudgy face. Dean grinned.

"We put the fun in dysfunctional. And the F.U. in fun," he said, before turning over his shoulder. "Alright kiddo, take it away."

Natalie took a deep breath. "Deus, et pater Domini nostri Jesu Christi," she began tentatively. At the words "Deus" and "Jesu Christi", Kyle visibly flinched. Dean nodded savagely.

"That's it, squirt. Keep going," he ordered. Natalie rattled off the rest of the exorcism perfectly. At the last line, Kyle's head was thrown back, and a projectile cloud of black smoke erupted from his mouth. Dean and Sam both instantly became rigid, watching the demon swirl around their heads before dispersing with a violent cracking noise like thunder. As expected, the now demon-less form of Kyle slumped backwards. Sam reached out and easily caught the man underneath the arms. Dean ran forward to grab the man's legs. Together, the brothers heaved him onto the nearest bed.

"Should I go get him some water?" Natalie asked anxiously, trying to stand on her toes in the water to see better. Dean pointed at her forcefully.

"Don't move. Not yet," he ordered.

"Yes, sir," she said obediently, sinking back down onto her feet. Sam checked the man's pulse and breathing. Both were normal, so he began gently slapping him in the face, trying to get him to come back to consciousness. Eventually, the man slowly blinked his eyes a few times, then gasped as he fully came to.

"Is it gone? Is the demon gone?" he said in a ragged voice.

"You're cleared of all STDs," Dean said confidently. Both Sam and the man looked at Dean with a _what-the-hell_ type of look. Dean blinked back innocently. "Spiritually Transmitted Demons. What? Was that not clear?" The poor man slumped back onto the bed in confusion, as Sam gave Dean his familiar bitch face. Dean, however, grinned like the Cheshire Cat. "Come on. That was funny and we all know it." Sam rolled his eyes and went to get a glass of water as Dean helped the man to sit up.

"So- is Kyle your real name?" Sam asked kindly, handing the man the plastic cup. The man nodded, then drank with obvious thirst. Sam's eyes quickly flicked to Dean's, and he gave him the slightest nod. Dean knew that Sam had slipped some holy water into the man's cup, and that now they were truly free and clear of demons. As Sam helped Kyle get his bearings back, Dean snatched a towel and walked over towards Natalie, still standing in her puddle. He helped her climb out of the pan, and handed her the towel to dry her feet. Kyle's eyebrows raised- apparently, he didn't remember Natalie stepping into the water, but didn't comment.

"Come on," Sam said, pulling the worn out man to his feet. "I'll give you a ride home."

"I'll come with you!" Natalie said quickly, making a move towards Sam. She had barely made it half a step before Dean's hand snatched the back of her collar and drug her back towards him.

"Oh, no you don't," he hissed at her. Natalie's face went pale at hearing her father's words. Sam quickly ushered Kyle out the door. They heard the Impala zoom off. Natalie swallowed hard, then turned to face her father, who had folded his arms and was giving her The Eye again.

"Sorry?" she said, hoping that he would be sympathetic to her pleaded question. Dean shook his head. He knew it had been an accident, but that didn't mean that it didn't come with consequences.

"No TV for the rest of the week. Or until the next Apocalypse. Whatever comes first," Dean said authoritatively. But with a twinkle in his eye, he added, "And at the rate this family's going, who knows what'll come first."


	47. Dr Natalie

**Gooooooooood Morning fabulous SPN Family! May I just say you are fantastic?**

 **So surprise! Another update. I'm going to try to update a lot this week because 1. I feel guilty going so long before this not posting, and 2. I'm trying to get to chapter 50 by Natalie's birthday this Monday. Fingers crossed and I'll do it!**

 **This chapter is super special to me, because it was co-written by the fabulous and talented Jenmm31. She wrote all of Dean's lines, a good chunk of Sam's, and some fantastic snappy one-liners, both funny and heartwarming. If you haven't before, please go show her some love and check out her stories- they're wonderful. I just couldn't get this story line off the ground, but she made it soar :)**

 **Thank you thank you thank you for all the reviews- seriously, I love you guys. You're just the best. Thank you.**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is 4. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

The time on the radio said 2 am, right on the button, but the Impala was still going as strong as if it had been 5 pm. The Winchester Brothers were returning from a successful witch-hunt. A small coven had been terrorizing this town for about a month when the boys got wind of it and came rolling in. However, these witches had put up an almighty fight on their way out. Sam shifted uncomfortably in the passenger's seat, feeling his many cuts and bruises, as well as the slicing pain in his side. "Man, those were some nasty pieces of work," he grumbled, referring to the witches and trying not to reopen any injuries that had happened to close since the fight.

Sam's uncomfortable shifting did not go unnoticed by Dean's trained eye. "Witches, man," he said with a shake of his head in disgust. He glanced at Sam and tried to ask casually. "They get you pretty good there?" Dean knew that Sam had gone toe to toe with one member of the coven who had been unusually handy with a switchblade. Sam shrugged it off, not wanting his big brother to worry anymore than he usually did.

"Gonna need a couple stitches, but it's not bad," he confessed before worriedly looks at Dean. "You?"

Dean still gave him the once over with his x-ray vision, but he could tell Sam was telling the truth. "Other than these beauty marks, I'm good as new," he quipped, indicating a nasty shiner on his right eye and a small cut on his cheek, now crusty with dried blood. The knife had barely grazed him when he had come to help Sam out, but that bastard still drew blood. Freaking witches.

Sam nodded and pulled his phone out of his pocket, rereading the text that he had received about two hours ago. "Well, Connie said Natalie finally went down around midnight, so we'll send her on home and get cleaned up quietly." Connie was the sweet 60-something year old lady who had offered to watch Natalie while the boys were on the case. Her next-door neighbors had been victims of the witches, so she was only too happy to help the brothers in any way that she could. Her sweet smile and uncanny resemblance to Mrs. Claus had made Natalie take a shine to the lady immediately.

Dean shook his head at Sam's words. So Natalie managed to stall bedtime yet again. He couldn't help but grin thinking about what fast ones she must have pulled on the grandmotherly lady in order to stay up that late. The kid was a ninja at getting out of bedtime.

After putting his phone away, Sam rolled his wrist, his fists aching. It had been a while since he got in a legit fist fight. After the one witch lost his switchblade to Dean, he had come back up swinging. Sam snorted and shook his head, replaying the fight in his mind. "You know for a minute there, I thought those witches were getting the upper hand," he chuckled, glad that he could laugh about it now.

Dean flashed him his cocky grin. "Nah, Sammy. No witch is going to get the upper hand on me."

Sam grinned back. "On us, man. On us." They pulled up to the motel. All the lights were off except one soft glow in their motel room window. Another quick glance at the clock- 2:15. Sam rubbed his eyes, still wincing at the pain in his side. He immediately pressed the old towel that he had been using to soak up the blood back into his side. Both boys got out and tried to shut Baby's doors as quietly as they could before walking up to their motel room door.

Dean gently knocked before turning the key in the lock. They had agreed beforehand that they would do that so Connie would know it was them when they returned. Couldn't be too careful. As they entered the room, the sweet little lady put down her book of crosswords and came over to them immediately. She pressed a finger to her lips, then pointed at the small, gently breathing child on the sofa. As she got nearer to them, her face morphed into concern at their grisly appearance.

"Oh dear," she said, examining them both. "You boys look a little worse for the wear."

"Yeah, well, you should see the other guy," Dean said with a half smile. He looked over at Sam again- he needed to stitch his brother up sooner rather than later. Once Connie closed the door behind them, he pulled out his billfold to grab some cash. He said quietly, "How did it go?" He glanced towards the couch to sneak a peek at his kid, as did Connie. She smiled, and then looked back at Dean.

"Oh, we just had the best time. We read all her books- she just couldn't seem to get enough of them!" she gushed quietly, having enjoyed reading to the eager little girl. Behind her back, however, Sam exchanged a quick glance with Dean- it was Natalie's patented distraction technique. He rolled his eyes before Connie continued. "She didn't seem to want to sleep. She just told me over and over that she wasn't tired. But she eventually gave up and went down around midnight. Little butter bean is a spit fire, isn't she?" she said, seeming to hold her chuckle back, but the sparkle in her eye told the boys that she didn't really mind the hyperactive monkey she'd babysat.

Dean nodded grimly. "Oh she's a spit fire all right. I'm glad she behaved for you." Knowing Natalie, it could have been a lot worse trying to get the kid to bed. He held out the money for Connie to take as he made a mental note to talk to his daughter yet again about stalling bedtime for the babysitter. "Thank you for helping us out. I appreciate you watching the monkey tonight," he said, a thankful grin on his face. That grin was soon to be short lived, however.

Upon hearing her father's nickname for her, Natalie suddenly sprung up from her couch. "You're home!" she squealed delightedly, breaking all the peace that has settled in the room. She bounded out of her blankets, tearing across the room and nearly giving poor Connie a heart attack.

Connie gasped and pressed a hand to her heart. She had been so startled at the child's sudden movements that her pacemaker seemed to jump. "Natalie! I thought you were sleeping, honey!" she said baldly, as if she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

The four year old turned to her and shrugged. "I was faking it!" she said by way of an explanation. She turned to Dean and threw her arms out wide. "Hi Daddy!" she said, jumping up and down in excitement, apparently not giving a damn that it was after 2 am. Sam looked at Dean, not believing what was happening himself.

"Faking it?" Dean repeated, stunned. He was so taken off guard by her sudden revival that he was not even sure what to do at that moment. He quickly shoved the money into Connie's hand. Sam took that as his cue to usher Connie to the door. Once they got outside, Sam turned to the sweet, baffled woman.

"Well- thanks again," he said awkwardly. Connie still looked like a deer in headlights- so taken aback was she.

"How on earth could she have been faking it?" the poor lady wondered aloud.

Sam shrugged with a half smile. "She's good. She's really good."

"But she laid perfectly still for almost two hours! In the middle of the night!"

Sam couldn't do anything more than offer her a weak smile. "Well- like I said. She's good. And stubborn." He held Connie's car door open for her as the little sweet lady continued to stammer disbelievingly. As soon as she was in, Sam politely closed the door for her and hoofed it back into the room. Dean was standing, looking down at Natalie with his hands on his hips, while she was still grinning to beat the band.

"You want to explain yourself?" he growled at his daughter, a touch of The Eye in his gaze.

Natalie, however, ignored the Eye and wrapped her arms around Dean's knees, hugging him tightly. "I wanted to see you!" she said, happy that they were both home. She leaned back and looked into his face, finally noticing the black eye and the cut cheek. "Did the witches hurt you?" she asked anxiously. She looked over at Sam standing near the door, and saw that he was pretty banged up as well. Not wanting her to distract them from the issue, however, Sam put his hands on his hips.

"Natalie. Answer your father, please," he said, trying to be stern and failing as usual.

Natalie looked back at Dean and innocently said, "What?"

Dean snapped his fingers and pointed to the bed, signaling for Sam to go sit. He didn't want his brother standing up anymore with his side sliced open. Sam did as Dean snapped, going to sit on his bed. Dean nodded in approval, and then returned his attention to his wide-awake daughter, seeing that he was going to have to take a different approach. "Why are you up?" he said, trying to keep any harshness out of his voice. "And don't say it was to see us because you see us all freaking day. That could've waited till morning." He sarcastically thought that he couldn't wait to see what she was going to come up with on this one. Natalie's eyes had followed Sam, observing his slower movements. When he finally sat down, her attention returned to her father. She shrugged like it was obvious.

"I missed you and I wanted to know if you got the witches," she said sweetly. She squinted and frowned at the cut on Dean's cheek. "Did you get hurt? Did the witches do that?"

Dean tried not to roll his eyes while remembering that a four year old didn't quiet understand that yes, a cut meant one got hurt, but there was no way he was going to admit that. "Obviously we got the witches and you know that." There was no way he'd lose a fight to freaking witches, ever. "I'm fine, but you're going back to bed, kid," he said, starting to move to usher her back to the couch. He needed to stitch up Sam, and was not pleased with the idea of doing that with a child hanging on his leg. The child, however, had a different idea.

Natalie grabbed onto the hand that was trying to usher her back to bed. "But I'm not even tired and I want to help you. I can help you and Unca Sam feel better!" Without waiting for permission, she ran over to the supply bag containing the First Aid kit, and started digging.

Sam took one look at Dean's face, and jumped in, hoping to help. "Bug, you really need to be in bed," he said gently, trying to reason with her. Natalie turns to him with the full force of the puppy dog eyes.

 _Damn Sam for teaching her that,_ Dean thought observing the whole thing. Natalie blinked at him, not understanding why she couldn't help.

"But... but you're hurt. I cannot sleep if you're hurt," she said, her eyes wide. Sam turned to Dean with a sigh that told him she wasn't lying. Since the moment she started talking, Sam had always had an uncanny ability to tell when Natalie was lying and when she was telling the truth. This was definitely the latter. She wasn't trying to get out of bedtime. She was honestly upset that they were hurt.

Dean ran a hand down his face and winced in pain as it runs across his cut that he had already forgotten about. He walked over to the bag and reached in to retrieve the first aid kit quickly and out of her reach. He looked down at her pleading eyes. "You know better than to trick the babysitter and stay up well past your bed time," he said seriously, needing to get back to the heart of the matter. He wasn't yelling or even really angry- he was too tired for that.

She shrunk down a little at the scolding, and mumbled. "I'm sorry, Daddy," she said, staring at the floor. Sam pinched his lips and shook his head at Dean. She wasn't really that sorry- she got to stay up. But before Dean could call her out on the lie, she popped her head back up. "Can I please help you and Unca Sam feel better? Then I'll go right to bed, promise," she pleaded with four year old sincerity.

Dean wanted to fight her on this; she knew better. He briefly considered tying her down to the couch as a means of making her stay in bed, but he knew that would never work. The little ninja could shimmy her way out of anything. He had learned in the last four years to pick his battles and this wasn't one of them, especially with Sam hurt. With a sigh, he met her puppy dog eyes and his heart softened slightly, but he still answered her with some authority behind his voice.

"You can WATCH and the second we're done, you're going to bed. And you'll go to bed all week without a fuss. Kapeesh?" He had to take a shot and milk this for all it was worth.

She barely heard the last sentence. As soon as she realized he was giving her permission to stay up, her eyes lit up like fireworks on the Fourth of July. "Okay!" she squealed excitedly. She snatched the first aid kit out of Dean's hand and ran over to Sam's bed. She clambered up onto it and opened up the kit. "Okay now. Where are you hurt?" she asked.

Sam smiled gently. "Bug, you are just watching, remember?"

"But I know what to do! I learned it all!" she said enthusiastically.

"Learned it all? Learned all what?"

"All the doctor stuff! I've been watching Doc McStuffins and I know what to do!"

Dean rolled his eyes. He knew that was going to come back and bite him in the ass. Natalie had been on a Doc McStuffins streak for about a week now. At first, it was just a relief that it wasn't that stupid freaking Frozen movie. But now, apparently, his four year old thought she was capable of doctoring. Stupid Disney shows. Right up there with witches in his book.

Dean quickly moved over to the bed, sitting next to Sam and closed the first aid kit, careful not to smash her fingers. "Watching, remember? TV is different than real life, kiddo," he said calmly, before pulling the kit onto his lap. Natalie pinched her lips together as Dean closed the kit on her, but she knew better than to argue. She leaned back and sat on her hands as her way of showing Dean that she was listening and not touching.

Dean nodded approvingly once at her obedience. He re-opened the kit, rummaging through to find what he wanted. He looked at his little brother. "You wanna chug something before we start?" he asked Sam, his eyes suggestive. They kept a bottle of bourbon on hand for this very reason. Sam shook his head grimly.

"Naw, I'm good," he said in a straight tone. He just wanted it done so he could go to bed. Natalie suddenly felt the need to pipe up.

"Unca Sam, you need to tell the doctor if something is hurting, or they don't know," she said seriously.

Dean grinned at the comment. "Yeah, Sammy. You gotta tell the doctor if it hurts," he said in a teasing tone. Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's comment, but turned to Natalie.

"I'm really okay, Bug," he said reassuringly. Dean reached out carefully to lift Sam's shirt to see the wound. Sam reached down and helped him out, trying not to show that he was in pain in front of his niece. Not that he was trying to act macho or anything- he just didn't want to scare her. But he forgot once again that this was Dean's kid he was talking about. Despite the blood and slashed flesh, Natalie leaned in very closely to look. Sam wasn't lying- the gash wasn't terrible, just needing about three stitches.

"You gotta clean the blood off first, Daddy," she said seriously to Dean, as if he didn't know already. Looking at the wound that was very different than anything on the Disney Channel show, she said anxiously to Dean. "Don't hurt him, okay?"

Dean saw the serious look on her face, and smiled at her. "I'll never do that, kiddo." She couldn't seem to stop fidgeting. He saw how antsy she was, so he decided to make her useful in hopes that she'd stay out of the way. "Why don't you go grab us a towel?" he asked as he pulled the bottle of rubbing alcohol out of the bag.

"Okay!" she said excitedly, thrilled to be helping. She jumped off the bed, causing Sam to grit his teeth. It was two am, and the walls of the motel weren't exactly sound proof. The last thing they needed was a neighbor calling the manager, and then to have to try to explain their way out of this one.

"Natalie, you need to be quiet. And don't jump off the bed!" he scolded, but she wasn't paying attention. She had her mission. She snatched a towel from the bathroom and ran back to Dean's side.

"Here! I got one!" she squealed delightedly, causing Sam to shoot Dean his best bitch face.

"Natalie, Uncle Sam said quiet down," Dean repeated as he took the proffered towel. Natalie clamped her lips shut, knowing she better behave. Without warning, Dean poured the alcohol on Sam's wound, quickly using the towel to soak up the excess liquid and keep it from getting all over the bed. "Sorry, Sammy," he said apologetically. He knew it hurt like a bitch, which is why it was best to not know it was coming.

Sam gritted his teeth as a hiss of air escaped his mouth. "It's fine. I'm fine," he said tightly. He clamped his jaw together. "Just keep at it," he said carefully, trying not to let the expletives that he wanted to utter come out of his mouth.

Natalie watched the proceedings with worried eyes. She knew she couldn't touch Sam, even though he was in pain, but she needed to help somehow. She dove into the first aid kit, pulling out a square gauze bandage in its paper wrapping as well as the Neosporin, remembering that Uncle Sam always put the gooey stuff in the yellow tube on her cuts when she got hurt.

Dean pulled out a sterilized needle and some floss-like string for stitching- the routine all too familiar to him by now. "Okay, Sammy, here we go." He quickly dove in with the needle, making quick and careful work of the stitches. "Almost done...you doing okay?" he asked, not taking his eyes off Sam's side, but trusting his instinct to tell him if Sam was lying to him.

"Yeah, fine," came the clipped reply. Dean knew Sam enough to know that it meant this didn't tickle, but he was doing okay. Natalie also heard the tension in Sam's voice. It made her nervous, especially because she knew that she couldn't really do anything to help. She suddenly got a brilliant brain wave. She tore over to her backpack and quickly withdrew something. She ran back over to Sam and extended her finger. At the end of it was a sparkly princess sticker.

"Here- this will make you feel better," she said anxiously, wanting desperately to help. Sam smiled gently, but didn't move.

"Thanks, Bug. Hold tight a moment," he said, not wanting her to think he wasn't taking the sticker on purpose. Dean still had a needle in his skin- he wasn't moving for anything. Dean smirked at the glittery sticker and made a mental note to mock Sam about it later. He deftly finished off the stitch and clipped the string.

"Done," he said, gripping Sam's shoulder and giving him a reassuring squeeze like always. He started rummaging around in the first aid kit for some pain killers. Natalie saw her golden opportunity.

"Here! I can help!" she squealed, leaning forward and putting the sticker on Sam's shirt. She climbed back up on the bed and tore open the bandage. She reached for the Neosporin, but Sam gently intercepted her small hands.

"Here, Bug. Let me do the Neosporin and you can do the bandage, okay?" he said, making sure she looked him in the eye. She nodded solemnly.

"Okay," she agreed. Sam gently smeared the ointment on his skin, being careful not to open the wound that Dean had just stitched up. He turned back to the little wannabe doctor.

"Okay. Nice and easy now," he instructed. Natalie bit her lip and reached forward tentatively, but she went slowly. Even though she was hell bent on helping, it was clear she was scared of hurting her uncle. Dean had shaken a couple pills into his hand and thrust them at Sam.

"Take these," he ordered quietly, before turning to his daughter. "You got it, kiddo?" he asked lightly, but he was watching her like a hawk. He knew she was dying to help, but that didn't mean he was going to let her do something that would put Sam in even more pain. Natalie nodded stubbornly, not taking her eyes off her target. With all the determination she could summon, she gently pressed the bandage to Sam's side. Sam quickly put his hand over the bandage to hold it in place, and then smiled at his niece.

"Good job Bug," he said encouragingly. Natalie looked at them both, her eyes wide and wondrous.

"I did it!" she said, clapping her tiny hands together once. As Sam nodded to Dean to reassure him and to tape the bandage in place, Natalie piped up again. "Where else are you hurt?" she asked, now full of confidence.

"Ya did good, kiddo. We put Humpty Dumbo back together again," Dean quipped as he taped the bandage back on. He looked at his brother frankly. "You hurt anywhere else?" he asked.

"Hey! I asked first!" Natalie said indignantly. Sam smothered a smile at Dean.

"She did ask first," he retorted, before smiling at Dean with a look that said _just let her have this one._ Dean rolled his eyes at the two of them.

"Sorry, my bad, Doc Whatshername. Go ahead." He motioned toward Sam for her to continue. But Natalie wasn't going to let him off the hook on that one.

"DADDY- it's Doc McStuffins. But I'm NOT her. I'm Doctor Natalie!" she said with a distinctive air of "duh".

With his own underlying sarcasm that went unnoticed by the doctor, Dean responded. "Yeah, Doctor Natalie, of course." He couldn't help himself- he grinned. God, this brat was funny.

Satisfied that she got her point across, she nodded, and then turned back to Sam. "Tell me what hurts, please," she said, trying to use her best manners.

At that blessed moment, Sam felt the painkillers kick in. He turned his attention to his niece and gave her a little smile. "Well, Dr. Natalie, my hand hurts a little bit, but it should be fine." He held out his right hand, knowing that she'd want to see it. Dean leaned forward a bit, looking with a hunter's eye for things that a four year old doctor might not catch.

"Hmmmm," she said seriously, taking his hand and examining it. Sam pinched his lips together to try to suppress the laugh. She would be hurt if he laughed at her, but she was just so serious that it was adorable. After a moment, she said, "You don't got any cuts or bruises on it. Did you punch a monster with it?"

"Yes, Bug. We went a few rounds with the witches," Sam explained gently. Dean shuddered.

"Freaking HATE witches," he grumbled. Natalie, however, knew the remedy for punching someone, having seen her father deal with it many, many times.

"Okay," she said. She was about to launch herself off the bed, when she remembered she wasn't allowed to do that. She climbed down nicely, and then went tearing over to the ice bucket, using both hands to haul it off the bathroom counter. She quickly dumped a couple handfuls into a clean washcloth, and ran back to Sam. "Here," she said, holding out her tiny hand for his large one. With a smile, Sam put his hand on top of hers, and she hauled the ice pack on top of his bruised knuckles. "Now you gotta keep the ice on it, okay? You gotta make sure that the ice stays right there, okay Unca Sam? It can't go no where," she said, looking into his eyes, apparently very concerned that he wouldn't understand that the ice must not move at any cost.

Sam nodded solemnly. "I will, Doc. Don't you worry." This time, he couldn't help but let the smile spread across his face. She was too adorable and honestly this was the best medicine for him, seeing his niece happy and healthy. "Thanks for patching me up," he added with a wink.

She patted him gently on the leg. "You are a very good patient. Is there anything else wrong with you?" she asked professionally- for a four year old.

"We don't have time to fix all the things Uncle Sammy has wrong with him," Dean quipped playfully, tapping the side of his temple. Sam just shook his head, chuckling. He continued holding the ice bag on his hand, making sure that Natalie could see that he was following instructions.

"So how much is this doctor's visit gonna cost me?" Sam asked, still wanting to play along with her. Natalie giggled, then tapped her cheek.

"One kiss, please!" she said in her cute little voice. Sam gently took her chin between his thumb and forefinger, turned her face one way, and gave her a soft kiss on one cheek, before turning her head the other way and planting another on the other side.

"There's your tip, too," he said, grinning. She giggled, delighted with the double kiss.

"Thank you!" she squealed. Sam closed his eyes at her suddenly loud voice, but if they hadn't woken up half the motel at this point, they probably weren't going to. Natalie turned to her father.

"Okay, Daddy. Please tell the doctor what's wrong," she said, then leaned forward and whispered. "And don't forget I'm the doctor." Dean snorted a laugh.

"Well Doc, I'll have you know that I'm good as new." Dean was too macho to ever admit he was "hurt", despite the slash mark on his cheek. He had an appearance to maintain.

But the four year old wasn't having any of it. She put her tiny hands on her hips and said pompously, "Daddy, if you lie, you gotta sit in Time Out." Sam couldn't contain his laugh- it snorted out before he could catch it.

Dean rolled his eyes at Sam as if to say _Yeah, that one's on me._ He stuck his tongue out playfully at his daughter. "I'd like to see you try getting my ass in Time Out," he said defiantly as he rummaged through the first aid kit. At seeing Dean try to seek his own medical treatment, Natalie stomped her foot.

"Hey! That's my job!" she squawked indignantly. She scrambled up onto the bed and swatted his hand, just like he did to her every time she tried to steal his phone. With the ultimate bitch face on, she snatched the rubbing alcohol and poured it onto the towel.

Dean pulled his hand back at the light smack, and couldn't help but grin. His kid was too much like him for her own good. He reached out, helping her with pouring the liquid onto the towel. "Be careful- you don't want to pour too much," he instructed gently.

"Okay, she said, concentrating hard. Her tongue poked out the side of her mouth as she focused. Both brothers tried to swallow their lips in order to keep from laughing. She was just too damn cute. After completing her task, she held the towel out to Dean a bit. "This might sting a little, okay?" she said anxiously, not wanting to take him by surprise.

Dean shook his head when he realized just how much she sounded like him too when she said that. The kid picked up on their phrases right and left. It never ceased to amaze him just how closely she paid attention to them. "Bring it on, squirt. Let's clean up this bad boy," he said, pointing to his cheek. He gave Sam a quick look that said _your turn to watch her._ His eyes would be closes as the cut was near his cheek- and keeping your eyes closed around a imaginative Natalie was always a risk. Sam grinned, and Dean shut his eyes.

Natalie carefully wiped Dean's cheek. She was so scared of actually hurting him that she went at a snail's pace. Anytime she scraped her knee or got a cut, she hated the part where the rubbing alcohol went on, because it stung so badly. She knew this was the way to clean up the cut- she'd certainly gotten enough herself, but she didn't want to hurt her daddy for anything. Once Dean realized what was going on, he also realized that this procedure was going to take twenty minutes when it should have taken twenty seconds. He spoke up, gingerly opening one eye. He had to help her get this done sometime in the next month.

"C'mon. Really get in there, Natalie," he said gently, trying to help her through her fear. "Don't worry, kid, you can't hurt Batman," he added, a grin in his voice. That instantly sparked an idea from his daughter.

"Hold on!" she said, sliding off the bed and going running over to her backpack. After a moment, she came back with an action figure in her hand. "Here," she said, holding it out to Dean. "You can hold this and it will make you feel better." Dean looked down into her hand. It was her Batman action figure.

Dean looked into her little anxious eyes. This was a big deal. NOBODY got to touch Batman- ever. It was one of the very few items she was incredibly possessive over. His heart twisted when he realized that this was such a big moment for her, wrapped up in something so insignificant that another might have missed it. But not him.

He knew he would have to get playful again though, to keep her from panicking. He took the action figure and held it in his hand. "Does this mean I get to keep him forever?" he joked, pulling Batman into his chest. Natalie's eyes got wide for a moment, and then she realized that Dean was just teasing her. She giggled.

"You can if you say that you're a wuss!" she shot back playfully as she continued to clean his cut. She was definitely braver this time, seeing that Dean was okay.

"Not a chance in hell. You can have the tiny guy back after you patch me up," he said, keeping the burn of the alcohol off his facial expressions. She was going to have to get used to doing this sooner or later, but he'd rather not scare the four year old just yet. He was a pro at putting away feelings or any signs of pain. Years of practice. Hell would do that to a guy.

Natalie continued to clean it for another moment, before she suddenly couldn't take it anymore. "Batman is helping, right?" she asked quietly. Dean knew his little girl well enough to know that she really was asking if she was hurting him. He smiled encouragingly.

"Keep at it. Doesn't hurt a bit."

About five seconds later, she pulled the cloth away. There was no more blood- just the angry pink tear in the skin. She nodded approvingly, then dove into the first aid kit again. "Where are the caterpillar band aids?" she asked as Dean smeared Neosporin on the cut. Sam and Dean exchanged a quick look. What the hell was a "caterpillar" band aid? Dean gave Sam a snarky smile.

"Why don't you ask you assistant, Nurse Samantha?" he quipped, nodding towards a bitch-faced Sam.

And with a giggle, Natalie did just that. "Nurse Samantha, where are the caterpillar band aids?" she said, turning to him with Dean's smirk on her face.

"First off, it's Uncle Sam to you, Doc," he said, looking her in the eye. He had to make her understand that that nickname wasn't flying with him- not from a four year old, anyways. He reached into the first aid kit. "Second, they're called BUTTERFLY bandages." He pulled one out and handed it to her. Natalie took it with a grin.

"Thanks, Nurse Unca Sam!" Sam rolled his eyes. Close enough.

"Yeah, thanks Nurse Samantha," Dean added, stomping all over Sam's teaching moment. He had to taunt him. It was his brotherly duty. Dean glanced at the band aid in Natalie's hand. "Okay, kiddo. Let's do this."

"Daddy, we're not a-spose to call him Nurse Samantha, remember?" she scolded as she opened the bandage.

"Yeah, well, I'm the oldest, so I can still do it," he said with his shit-eating grin in place. Natalie just shook her head and rolled her eyes, looking just like Sam for a change. She carefully put the band aid on the cut just like she'd seen Dean do a thousand times before. He patted it into place. "Great work, kiddo. I'm good as new," he said, grinning at the Doc.

"Yaaaay!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together delightedly. But then she noticed Dean's swollen eye. She left her hands pressed together and tilted her head. "Your eye is all red. How's come?" she asked. Dean quickly shook his head. He wasn't about to tell his daughter who thought he walked on water that a witch sucker punched him when he wasn't looking.

"A witch happened," was all he'd give up as an explanation. "Give me a day and I'll be good as new," he reassured her. She pressed her lips together, not liking the answer.

"I don't want you to be hurting for a whole day. I want to fix it now. How do I fix it now?" she asked seriously.

Dean ruffled her hair. His kid had a heart bigger than his and Sam's combined. She always wanted to help, to make sure they were okay and nothing bad happened. It was a rare moment, but right then, something whispered into Dean's brain that maybe, just maybe, he was doing this Dad thing right. He shook his head and winked at her with a smile.

"Sorry, kiddo. It's just one of those things that heals with time. So don't you worry," he said, handing Batman back to her. At hearing that, Natalie's bottom lip poked out so far she could have tripped over it.

"Doc McStuffins doesn't tell you how to fix Witch Stuff," she grumbled to herself. Just as Dean was thinking that THAT would be a hilarious Disney Channel episode of that stupid show, Natalie shrieked.

"WAIT!" She dove off the bed again and made a beeline for her backpack, depositing Batman inside, and digging for something else. Dean knew exactly what she was going for, having watched Sam just go through it, but before he could stop her, she ran back to him. Sure enough, a glittery princess sticker was being extended towards him. "You get one too for being a good patient," she said, smiling her thousand watt smile at him.

Dean ground his back teeth together. There was no way in hell he'd willingly wear a freaking princess sticker, but he didn't want to hurt Natalie's feelings. "Hey- I don't want to take all your stickers," he offered up seriously, praying she'd buy it. "It's okay. You did such a good job, I don't need to take all your stickers."

"That's okay, Daddy! I got lots of them!" she said, holding the princess out to him again. Instead of taking the sticker, Dean's narrowing eyes slid up to Sam. Sam suddenly found the wallpaper of the motel very interesting.

"Really. Lots of them," Dean said dryly, his gaze unwavering. Sam had a tendency to spoil his niece at the worst times. Last he knew, Natalie only had a couple of those damned stickers left. He cocked one eyebrow at his brother. Sam pretended he couldn't hear. Dean kept his laser eyes glaring at Sam until Sam couldn't take it anymore. He sighed heavily and his shoulders slumped.

"They were two for a dollar at the gas station and I knew she'd love them," Sam admitted guiltily.

"And how many dollars did you spend?"

"Well….."

"Sam."

"Five."

Dean's mouth dropped open. She had TEN pages of these horrific sticky things?! Before he could rip open Sam's stitches, Natalie impatiently waved the sticker at him again. Knowing he had no other choice, he manned up. He took the sticker from his daughter and slapped it on the back of his left hand. When he saw the delighted look on his daughter's face, some how the glittery sticker didn't seem so bad. "Well would you look at that?" he said, his eyes going wide like he had suddenly received a jolt of energy. "I'm feeling better already. Must be a magic sticker."

"Really?!" Natalie gasped, looking down at the sticker in wonder. All of the sudden Dean registered how she must have heard what he just said. Before he knew it, Natalie raced over to her backpack and plucked two sheets of stickers out. "Here! Take more!" she squealed, delighted with her new discovery. Before Dean could stop her, she planted three more princesses on his jeans. Sam burst out laughing- which proved to be a bad move for him. Her head whipped around like she'd forgotten he was there. She ran over to him. "Here. You need more too!" And proceeded to put princess stickers all over his flannel shirt. Sam just chuckled, shaking his head. _Should've seen that coming,_ he thought amusedly to himself.

Dean pointed his finger and mockingly laughed because Sam got it too. "I think Nurse Uncle Sam needs extra stickers, squirt. He was hurt waaaaaaaay worse than I was," he taunted, his shit-eating grin going full bore. Wanting to help in any way possible, she complied immediately.

"Okay!" she said, climbing up on to the bed and then into Sam's lap, where she proceeded to put stickers on each side of Sam's face. Sam didn't even try to fight it.

When Natalie leaned back to admire her handiwork, without missing a beat Sam said, "Your dad is going to be jealous because I have more stickers now."

Natalie dove off Sam's lap in a ninja-esque move, and jumped up onto Dean. Amidst a flurry of giggles, she put a sticker right on the end of his nose, then burst out laughing. Dean made a point of good naturedly wrinkling his nose and trying to stare at the sticker cross-eyed, which caused Natalie to erupt in that brilliant laughter that only a four year old can do. After she laughed herself out, Dean sat her upright in his lap.

"You're a great doctor, kiddo. Patched us right up. High five," he said, extending his hand to her. She slapped him five with another giggle. "Now the thing that heals best is sleep, so what do you say we get some shut eye? Sleep heals all wounds." He wrinkled his nose again. "Or is that whiskey?" he asked, grinning at Sam. Without missing a beat, Natalie answered back.

"We can try whiskey too!" she said, squirming off his lap and making a beeline towards the bottle on the counter that was just out of her reach. Luckily, Dean's long legs overtook her before she could figure out a way to ninja herself onto the counter. He scooped her up and swung her around, before turning her to face him.

"Hold up there, squirt. Not for you to mess with," he said, looking her right in the eye to make sure she understood. "I'll take care of the whiskey- after you're in bed," he said, making sure to emphasize the fact that this was non-negotiable. Natalie nodded resignedly.

"Oh. Okay. I gotta clean up the mess, though." She squirmed until Dean put her down, and then trotted back over to the bed and the first aid kit. "Doc McStuffins says that you gotta clean up your...your..." She stumbled over the word "clinic"- she couldn't quite remember it. "…doctor stuff when you're done," she finished promptly. She began gathering the strips and paper from the bandages and wadding them into a ball. Dean unscrewed the top from the whiskey bottle and took an almighty swig before twisting the cap back on and heading over to the makeshift clinic. He quickly packed up the rest of the first aid paraphernalia as she dumped the paper garbage into the small trash can. As she trotted back to his side, a satisfied grin on her face, he reached out and ruffled her hair.

"Good job, kiddo. Doc Mc-Whatever-It-Is would be proud. Alright now- bed," he said in his no-nonsense voice. Natalie sighed heavily, knowing her playtime was up. She scrambled over to Sam and held her arms up. He reached down and picked her up, being careful of his side. He cuddled his niece to his chest for a moment before placing a gentle kiss on her forehead and setting her back down.

"Good Night, Bug. Sleep well," he said. She patted his knee consolingly.

"You too!" As she turned her back and trotted over to her blankets on the couch, Sam kicked off his boots and with a low chuckle, began peeling princess stickers off his face. Natalie clambered into her makeshift bed, then sat up, looking expectantly at Dean. He grinned and moved over towards her, crouching down next to her.

"Well, you managed to stay up until…." He looked at the clock. "Two forty A.M. I think that's a new record," he said. Natalie just grinned back at him. He shook his head with a chuckle. "You better sleep in late to make up for lost time," he said, knowing that it would never happen. True to form, Natalie shook her head.

"Naw. I'll just jump on Unca Sam instead," she said with a tiny giggle.

"Like hell you will," came the reply from the other end of the room. Natalie and Dean both snorted a laugh in tandem. Dean reached over to adjust her blankets, expecting her to lay down, but instead, she crooked a finger at him like she wanted him to come closer. He obeyed. She placed a sweet kiss on his cheek.

"There. That'll make everything better," she said sweetly. Dean's throat tightened up for a moment. He reached out and placed a loving hand on the back of her head, pulling her in close and kissing her temple.

"It already did, Baby Girl," he whispered back. As she laid down and he tenderly covered her with her blanket, he leaned in and whispered to her with a grin. "Make sure you get some air on that jump in the morning."

Natalie just giggled.


	48. Skipping Stones

**Hey Hey Hey! How are you today? I hope awesome, because YOU are awesome!**

 **Alright my fabulous SPN family- still trying to get to 50 by Monday...cross your fingers and pray the website doesn't crash, hee hee hee. Thank you from the bottom of my hunter heart for your support and reviews and follows and all that. You all are amazing. Truly.**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is 6 months old. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

"Sam, I don't think this is right."

"Dean, we need to do this."

"Look, man. I am telling you it's too soon."

"No, it's not. Dean- we have to do this. Who knows what could happen if we don't?"

"What'll happen is that everything will be fine, Sam. It's just….it's not time yet."

"Dean. You have to face reality here. It's time."

With a defeated sigh, Dean hung his head, begrudgingly acknowledging that Sam was right. He looked back up, the stoic grind of a Hunter's look in his eye.

"Fine. Let's do it."

In tandem, the boys turned towards the thing they were both dreading. A six month old in a high chair.

Sam had been doing his research, and according to all the baby websites, Natalie would be able to start eating solid food between 4 to 6 months old. When she had reached four months, Sam tentatively suggested it to Dean, who had shot it down immediately, saying that they had time and that she wasn't ready. Not wanting to start a fight, Sam backed off.

However, when he tried again at five months and Dean shot him down again immediately, Sam began to suspect that something was up. He tried talking to Dean indirectly about it to see what the issue was, but Dean clammed up like a mobster confronted by the Fuzz. Sam had made the decision that, at six months, he wasn't letting Dean out of this. That deadline was today.

At taking one look at his happy, smiling daughter in her high chair, Dean immediately started backpedaling again. "Nope. She's not ready," he exclaimed, making a beeline towards her to get her out of that contraption. Before he got too far though, Sam grabbed his shoulder.

"Dean!" he said with authority. Dean rolled his bottom jaw and stopped. "Why are you fighting me on this? You know that this is what's best for Natalie!" Sam argued.

Dean shrugged off Sam's hand and whipped around to face his brother. "Oh yeah? And why is that, Sam? Huh? Because the computer told you so? Since when does Google get to make our life choices?"

Sam couldn't help but roll his eyes. He had recited all the facts and figures to Dean already, but apparently, he was going to have to go through it all again. "Google is NOT making our life choices, Dean. The websites suggest-"

"So now you're saying a website knows my daughter better than I do. Thanks, Sam."

"If you would stop interrupting me for five seconds, I could actually tell you that-"

"That what? That I'm a bad father for waiting this long?"

"I didn't say that-"

"That she's going to be, I don't know, developmentally disabled or something just because she's not eating mushy peas?"

"No, I-"

"Then what, Sam? What?" Dean pressed hotly. Sam adopted his bitch face and leaned back, his arms folded. He simply closed his mouth. After a moment, Dean gestured angrily towards him. "What? You don't have any more pearls of wisdom to share?"

In a calm voice, Sam replied. "I'm just waiting for you to stop interrupting me like a child." Dean scowled at Sam's words.

"You're a child," he muttered. Sam rolled his eyes, but seized the moment.

"Look. The experts suggest that you start trying solid foods at between four to six months. We should just try it."

"Why?" Dean pressed. "She's perfectly fine and happy with her bottles." As if on cue, Natalie banged her baby hands down on the plastic tray in front of her. She squirmed back and forth, not really caring for the way that this plastic thing that Uncle Sam put her into restricted her movements, but enjoying the noise she could make nonetheless. She squealed in delight as the boys continued to argue.

"And if she doesn't like the solid food, that's okay. There's no rush," Sam explained yet again.

"Exactly. So why even bother?" Dean countered immediately. "There's no harm in waiting, as long as she starts solids before she's one." That fact took Sam by surprise. Not the actual fact- but that Dean knew it.

"How did you know that?" Sam asked, perplexed.

Dean shot him an _are you serious?_ face. "You think you've got the corner on research? If you remember correctly, I was the one who taught you how to start doing research in the first place," he said triumphantly, crossing his arms and looking superior. Sam crossed his own arms and leaned back.

"Fine. Then tell me what "Bing" is."

Dean thought for a moment. "A kind of cherry that you put in pie," he answered determinedly. Sam just shook his head.

"Dude, look. You're right about the one year part-"

"I know."

"BUT they also say that if there's food allergies in the family, it's better to catch them early with babies," Sam explained patiently. Dean threw his arms out wide.

"What the hell, Sam? Since when does anyone in our family have food allergies?" he said, disbelieving the excuse he was hearing. Sam put his hands on his hips, and dropped his head, addressing the carpet with his next sentence.

"I know we don't," he said, letting his words trail off before lifting his head and looking Dean right in the eye. His words made Dean stop cold. It was the closest thing either one of them had gotten to mentioning Natalie's missing mother since Natalie had been born and she had flown the coop. Sam had a point that Dean couldn't deny. The Winchesters didn't have food allergies, but Jamie might have. Dean tried to clear the lump that suddenly appeared in his throat. When he couldn't, he shook his head and tried to speak stoically.

"Isn't there some kind of test or something that we could do to check on crap like that?" he asked. Sam knew Dean well enough to hear the slight crack in his rough exterior. He spoke gently, wanting to help Dean deal with this sudden revelation.

"Yeah. And before they put a baby though that kind of medical testing, they'll ask if you've tried solid foods with her first. Dean, believe me, I've done all the research on this, because I know that, for whatever reason, you don't want to do this." At that, Dean turned away from Sam and faced the wall. Sam continued to plead. "It's better for her to try to actually eat something first than put her through a series of potentially unnecessary medical tests. And if she doesn't like the food, or can't or won't eat it right now, then we don't force it. But look at her."

Dean did as Sam asked, and looked at his baby. She was pinching her eyes shut at the noise the she was making, slamming her hands down repeatedly on the plastic high chair tray, and laughing explosively. "She's sitting up perfectly fine on her own. Her neck muscles are supporting her head just fine. She can hold stuff in her hands. And the other night when we were eating, she starting looking at me, and making chewing gestures with her mouth. All indicators that she's ready to try this," Sam said.

Dean continued to stare at Natalie. He stared so long that Sam started to think he had fallen asleep standing up. After a solid two minutes of silence, sans the baby noises, Dean finally looked back at his brother and took a deep breath.

"Alright. Fine then. Let's do this," he said suddenly. He walked over to the table, snatching the first jar of baby food that was in sight. Sam had gone to the store earlier and stocked up. When he had come home and Dean saw them, the entire fight had started up, and now here they were.

Dean kept the jar tightly closed in his fist as he went to another bag in the room. Sam's curious eyes followed him as he dug into a bright green striped bag. It wasn't Natalie's usual diaper bag, but part of a matching set that Jamie had left behind. In it were items that they might need in the future. After a moment, Dean withdrew a set of bright purple and pink baby spoons. He held them up to Sam with an ironic look.

"Thinking ahead," he said gruffly. Sam instantly realized what Dean meant by that. Jamie had purchased them, along with 90 percent of the baby paraphernalia they still used. She had left them piles upon piles of baby gear- all before she vanished into thin air. Dean must have known they were in there. Sam instantly felt guilty for making Dean relive that moment, but Dean was too busy tearing open the package to say anything. When he did look up, Sam was shocked and a little relieved to see a grin on Dean's face.

"Well, if this kid's anything like me, she'll love eating. Maybe you're onto something, Sammy," he said. Sam smiled as Dean walked towards him. With another deep breath, Dean twisted off the cap of the baby food. Both brothers leaned down, but instantly reared back after getting a whiff of the orangey goo in the jar.

"Ugh," Dean groaned, before tossing the cap on the nearby table, and dipping the edge of the spoon into it. "How much are we supposed to give her?" he asked, looking at his brother and trying not to inhale.

"Baby Center dot com said start with just one teaspoon." Dean pulled the spoon out of the jar and looked at it, forgetting that it had just been in a jar of mush. He held it out to Sam.

"Is that what this is? A teaspoon?"

"Dean, watch out! You're dropping it on the carpet," Sam scolded, jumping back to keep the baby food from hitting his shoe. Dean looked down to see the orange mush puddle on the ground. He looked back at Sam with another shit-eating grin.

"Probably not the worst stain this carpet has ever seen," he joked. Sam rolled his eyes as Dean plunked the spoon back into the small jar. "So- teaspoon? Yes?" he asked again.

Sam nodded. "Do you honestly not know what size a teaspoon is?"

"Do I look like a sissy?"

"That's a teaspoon size."

"Good. Now was that so hard?" Dean asked, giving Sam another superior look. He walked over to Natalie, who smiled and made grabbing movements towards her daddy when she saw him walking towards her. He grinned back. God, he loved this cute little snot-rag.

"Alright, shorty, here's the deal," he explained to her, as if she understood every word. "This junk," he said, hoisting the spoon out of the jar again, flinging more of its contents onto the ground.

"Dean…" Sam growled, again dodging the flying food. Dean ignored him.

"This junk is supposed to go in there," he said to Natalie, pointing to her mouth. "So make this easy on your old man and just go with it. Got it?" Natalie tilted her head to the side and grinned, not having a clue what he just said. She was just happy with the attention. "Sam, c'mere," Dean instructed.

"What?"

"Well, you gotta help me with this."

"How am I supposed to help you?"

"Do I just…..stick it in her mouth or what?" That brought Sam up short. He stammered for a moment.

"I don't know. Try it and see." Dean looked at Sam, disbelieving that for all his research, he had missed this crucial point. Sam just shrugged. In tandem, they both turned towards Natalie again. Dean cautiously and fearfully extended the spoon towards her, as if he was holding out a juicy steak to a starving dog. Sam leaned with him.

Natalie's eyes darted back and forth, not sure why Daddy or Sam were looking so intensely at her. As if on pure reflex, she leaned away from them too, but they just kept coming at her. Not to mention, whatever Daddy was holding out to her smelled new and weird. She kept leaning back until she couldn't anymore.

That gesture from the baby made Dean nervous, but he was already in too deep. He had to keep going. He gently touched his baby's lips with the spoon. Having the smell right under her nose made Natalie squawk in displeasure. It was a bad move on her part- some of the nasty smelling gunk made its way into her mouth.

Once Dean saw that, he quickly withdrew the spoon from her mouth. Both boys looked anxiously at her expression. Surprise, then confusion, then utter disgust registered on the baby's face in a matter of ten seconds. She stuck out her tongue, but didn't know how to dislodge the gross taste. She tried shaking her head, but the taste remained. So she did what babies do best. She screwed up her face to start crying.

At that, Dean tossed the spoon on the table, snatched up a bottle, and held it up to her mouth instantly. "Nope. See? Not ready," he growled at Sam, hating that he had almost made his daughter cry. She sucked at the bottle with relief. The bad taste was going away.

"Dean, she just might not like the taste of whatever that kind was," Sam explained patiently. At that moment, Natalie pulled her face away from the bottle. She was just happy to have the gross orange stuff gone. Dean put the bottle down and snatched the offending jar back up.

"Well, let's see. What kind is this, then?" he said, examining the jar. When Dean saw the label on the baby food jar, his face went apoplectic with rage. He shoved it in Sam's face.

"Carrots?!" he roared. Sam rolled his eyes at Dean's dramatics, and tried to take a step back before Dean smashed it in his face. "You got my kid CARROTS?! What kind of an uncle are you?" He immediately turned back to Natalie, who was her happy, sweet self again. "It's okay, squirt. Daddy won't let mean Uncle Sam make you eat vegetables again."

"Dean, what did you think baby food was made out of?"

"Well, you sure as hell could have picked something better than carrots to start with, you health freak."

"I got a couple different kinds. We can try something else," Sam said in an appeasing tone. Dean was on the verge of arguing, when he remembered Sam's comment about the allergies. He immediately tore over to the grocery bag full of baby food jars, and this time, started looking at the labels. He sorted through the clinking bottles for a moment before finding one that he liked.

"Alright now. This is more like it. Pie," he said happily. Sam reared back in surprise.

"What do you mean, 'pie'? They don't make pie flavored baby food," Sam said. In response, Dean held up the jar for Sam to read. Sam made a bitch face.

"Dean, that's apple. Not pie." Dean shrugged.

"Close enough," he said with a grin. He twisted the top off the second jar. He looked down at the spoon that still had some carrot mush on it. Without a second though, he flipped it into the trash.

"Dean, those can be washed-" Sam started to say, but the instant glare from his brother made him shut his mouth. Dean plucked another spoon from the package and made his way back to Natalie. He dipped the new spoon into the apple puree.

Natalie saw Daddy approaching again, but he still had the smelly thing that tasted bad in his hand. She whimpered pitifully as he extended it towards her. That whimper almost broke Dean's heart.

"Hey, it's okay, Baby Girl. See? Totally different stuff," he said gently. As if to prove it to her, he popped the spoon in his mouth quickly. Natalie tilted her head and stared at him, trying to figure out what he was doing. As the taste of the apple hit his tongue, Dean's eyebrows flew up in surprise. He turned to Sam as he pulled the spoon out of his mouth.

"You know, this stuff ain't half bad," he said, dipping the spoon in the jar and taking another lick. Sam just fixed him with a bitch face. Dean sheepishly pulled the spoon back out and scooped up a bit for the baby. He extended it towards her. She leaned back like she did the last time. However, once the scent of the sweet apple hit her nose, Natalie's eyes lit up. She looked back at Dean as if to say _this better not be a joke._ Dean carefully touched the spoon to her lips. Liking this smell much better, she opened up her mouth, just a little bit. Dean gently tilted the spoon so a bit of the apple got on her tongue. The sudden and enjoyable flavor in her mouth was so pleasant, she immediately opened up her mouth wider.

Dean chuckled and dipped the spoon in the food again, just a little bit. "See Natalie?" he cooed to her as he gave her a bit more. "I don't need no stinkin' DNA test to tell you're totally my kid. You went right for the pie. That's my girl."

Natalie's little tongue was working overtime, enjoying the new sensation. Her smile lit up her whole face. Dean sighed in relief, and leaned back. He looked over at Sam.

"Well. How 'bout that?" he said, grinning proudly. Sam smiled back as he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

"Here. Do another little bit. I want to get a picture," Sam said. Dean complied, and Natalie was only too happy to take another small mouthful. When she had eaten what they thought was about a teaspoon full and Sam had taken a dozen pictures, Dean twisted the cap back onto the jar, still smiling. He thrust the dirty spoon and the jar into Sam's hands.

"Here. You do the dishes," he said, grinning. Sam shook his head with a chuckle as Dean walked back over to Natalie and unfastened her from the high chair. He pulled the baby up into his strong arms. "So, kid. What do you think about your first solid food?" he asked her. Natalie wasn't paying attention to him. She was looking all around the room, as babies do. He turned back to Sam with a grin. "Eh. Jury's still out."

Sam chuckled again and washed off the spoon as Dean plopped down on the couch, turning the baby so she was sitting profile on his lap. Dean cooed and played with her for a moment, and she played back, delighted by Daddy's undivided attention.

Sam walked back to the two of them, and sat on the other end of the couch. As Dean rubbed his daughter's back, he became aware of Sam's gaze on him. He looked up to find his little brother staring at him. "What?" he said.

"Dean," Sam started, not really knowing how to ask what was bothering him. Dean waited while Sam gathered his words. "Why did you fight me so much on getting Natalie to try solid foods?"

Something in Dean's eyes shifted, but before Sam could read what it was, Dean dropped his gaze back to the beautiful baby in his lap. After a moment, Dean quietly answered.

"Because….because it was….too much for me."

"What do you mean?"

"What do I mean? I mean it was too much for me."

"Too much how?"

Dean sighed. "Look at her." He gestured to the cute pile of baby waving her arms. "She's so little and cute and crap. I mean this- this I can handle. I can mix up a bottle in like point five seconds now. I can pick her up without breaking a sweat." To demonstrate, Dean hoisted Natalie up and down a few times. Delighted with the sudden roller coaster ride, she laughed delightedly. Dean plopped her back down and pointed at her. "See? That's cute. Even I can't argue with that," he said, referring to her infectious giggle. "If I have to start doing things like feeding her solid foods and….potty training, and all that rot, then it means…..she's getting bigger," he finished quietly, almost dropping off to the point where Sam couldn't hear his voice. But Sam caught it. He suddenly understood Dean's reticence to having his daughter try solid foods.

"Dean," he said, speaking gently. "I know that kind of stuff is rough to deal with. And I can't pretend that it's the same for me to watch her get bigger as it is for you. I know it feels way different to you. But dude- do what you just told me to do."

"What do you mean?"

"Look at her," Sam instructed. Dean obeyed. At that moment, Natalie inadvertently clapped her hands together once, and let out an adorable baby squeal. Dean couldn't keep the smile from spreading across his face.

"See?" Sam said. "When she was a newborn, she couldn't do that. And you wouldn't have wanted to miss that little hand clap for the world." That gave Dean pause. He started really listening as Sam continued. "And she's gonna have so many more moments like that. Some of them are going to suck- it's true. Growing up in this life is gonna be tough. But most of those moments are going to be awesome. And you're going to want to see every one of them," Sam finished gently.

Dean snorted with a smile, but didn't say anything. He started bouncing his daughter up and down a few times. He still wasn't jazzed about the idea of Natalie getting older. She might even someday getting taller than he was- and he still wasn't over the fact that Sam was the taller of the two of them. But getting to watch her discover the world, walk, talk, all that junk….maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all. Maybe Sam was on to something. He didn't want to skip any more milestones. He wanted to see them all. And if she was anything like him- which she was already proving to be- they would all be awesome.


	49. Poker Face

**Goooooooooooood morning!**

 **Chapter 49- can we make it to 50 for Natalie's birthday tomorrow? Anyways. Fun fact about this one- I wrote this before I saw the full episode of "The Curious Case of Dean Winchester"- I'd seen the first ten minutes and the last part, but didn't catch the actual game. So any resemblance to that episode is legit** **coincidental, lol.**

 **Thank you thank you thank you for the reads and reviews. I want to hug you all. Special thanks as always to my girl, Jenmm31. Without her, there would be no Natalie for you to read. She's the best, y'all.**

 **Have a great day- hope I get to publish tomorrow!**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is seven. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

Dean pulled the Impala up to the door of the motel, quickly shutting off the motor and climbing out. He was desperate to be out of his monkey suit, having been trapped in it for most of the day. The weather was unreasonably warm for May, even if this was the South. Dean felt like he was swimming through the humid air just trying to get back to the room. When he finally opened the door, the blast of cold air from the a/c was so refreshing, he actually sighed in relief. His seven year old daughter turned her head towards the sound. She was sitting at the table, poring over a vocabulary worksheet that Sam had given her, but she instantly abandoned it when she saw her father, twisting around in her chair to see him better.

"Hey, Dad!" Natalie said with a grin. He turned to her, still feeling like he had just climbed out of a lake, but returned her dazzling smile. Just one look at that face, and his day was instantly better. "Hot enough out there for ya?" she quipped with a cocky grin.

"I think even my tie is sweating," Dean grumbled, loosening the knot at his Adam's apple. Natalie giggled, and slid off her chair, making her way over to him.

"How goes the case?" she asked, holding out her arms for his jacket. He promptly shrugged out of it, and handed it to her. Instead of answering her question, however, he glanced at the worksheet on the table.

"How goes the homework?" he asked, one eyebrow raised, indicating that he wasn't answering her question first. She giggled, but avoided answering his questioning by skipping away to try to hang up his jacket. When she realized that she couldn't exactly reach the hanging bar, she shrugged and hung the jacket off the doorknob. She then raced to the fridge and got him a beer. Dean tossed his tie on the bed and was loosening the top button of his collar when she pranced back to him, proffering the cold can. He took it and popped it open immediately, taking a long draught of the frosty drink. "Boy that hits the spot. I have trained you well, young Padawan," he said with a grin.

Natalie giggled, and then bowed to him. "Thank you, Master," she replied in a deep, worshipful voice. Sam, who was sitting at the table with his laptop open, just rolled his eyes at the two of them. Dean caught the look and grinned at his little brother.

"See Sam? This is why you need to have kids. They bring you alcohol." Sam just shot Dean his patented bitch face. Natalie suddenly darted over to Sam.

"Do you want a beer too, Uncle Sam?" she asked, anxious that she had been rude not getting him one too. Sam sighed, a bit defeatedly, but he smiled at her.

"No, Bug, I'm good, but thanks. Next time, why don't you get your Dad a water?" he said, leaning forward, trying to implant the idea in her head. Dean just scoffed and Natalie looked confused. She turned to her father.

"Do you even drink water?" she asked.

"There's water in beer," Dean answered, taking another long pull. Natalie turned back to her uncle, the confusion still etched on her face.

"See? He doesn't like just water," she tried to explain. Sam just shook his head at his brother, who walked back towards the table. He put his hand on the paper she had been working on, turning it towards him so he could see it better.

"So- homework?" Dean asked again. Natalie skipped back to her chair and plopped herself down, knowing that that was what Dean wanted her to do.

"Almost done," she murmured, picking up her pencil again. Dean's eyes looked up to catch Sam's. He silently asked if she was really almost done. Sam craned his neck to get a look at the worksheet.

"Ten minutes," Sam said quietly. Dean just nodded his head, satisfied.

"Perfect. Gives me just enough time to go take a shower before I go back out into the Land of the Soggy," he quipped, a bitter edge to his voice. At that, Natalie's head popped back up.

"You have to go out again tonight?" she asked, her wide green eyes searching his. She had really hoped that he and Uncle Sam would stay in tonight, even if it was just doing research. She knew that the job came first, and she was just as gung-ho about hunting as her father was. She knew vampire lore better than she knew her multiplication tables. Dean had been working with her for a little over a year now on guns, and she had shown the same promise that he had when he was her age. She had also taken to studying on her own, finding the subject of the Supernatural fascinating. Now that she was getting older, Sam and Dean were able to leave her alone in the motel rooms more and more, and she was missing time with the two of them. She never complained or anything; she just jumped on time with her family whenever she got it.

She was silently thrilled when she saw Dean shake his head. "No," he said. "Just grabbing dinner. I don't think we really have anything here, do we?"

"Just some leftover Chinese," Sam said, his eyes never straying from his laptop. Natalie stuck out her tongue and made a gagging noise.

"Yeah, my thoughts exactly," Dean agreed with her. "Besides, it's too damn hot to even run the microwave. Let's just go someplace." At that, Natalie whipped around in her chair excitedly.

"PIZZA! Pizza, pizza, pizza, pizza!" she squealed excitedly.

"Slow your roll there, Little Caesars," Dean said, putting the cold beer can on the back of his neck. He could almost hear his over warm skin sizzle in relief at the contact. He sighed, contented. "Were you good for Uncle Sam today?"

Natalie rolled her eyes. "Of course I was. I'm a perfect angel." Dean snorted a laugh, then looked to Sam.

Sam just chuckled. "Yeah, she was good."

Natalie gave Dean a look much too older for her seven years. "I'm seven now, Dad. It's not like I'm three."

"Of course. My bad," he said, grinning when his oh-so-mature seven year old started bouncing around again in anticipation of her favorite food. "Well, since you behaved, I guess we can..." he trailed off enticingly. Natalie leaned over the back of the chair, practically wriggling with excitement.

"Yeah?" she prompted, her voice barely containing her energy.

"Go out to get..."

"Yeah?!"

"Fish tacos."

"UGH! Dad!"

"What?"

"Those things are so gross!"

"Hm...Greek food?"

Giggles.

"So no Greek. Let's see. Mexican."

"You're killing me, smalls!"

*SPN SPN SPN*

Twenty minutes later, when Dean smelled much better after a shower, they were seating themselves at a popular pizza buffet chain joints. After the waitress had been by and taken their order, Natalie was about to make a break for it, when Sam's restraining hand on her wrist made her stop. She looked at him, wondering what on earth could be making him keep her from the glorious buffet that awaited.

"Salad first," he said firmly. Natalie made a face, which surprised Sam. "What's the problem? You love salad," Sam said.

"Yeah- still don't know where she got that from," Dean interjected.

"Come on! Salad just takes up pizza room!" she said earnestly. Dean's grin was unchecked.

"Now THAT'S my girl."

Sam shook his head. She was so her father's daughter. "You need vegetables. It doesn't have to be a big salad. Go on." Natalie rolled her eyes good naturedly and made her way to the salad bar. Sam nodded approvingly, then turned back to see Dean shaking his head at him. "What?" he asked. "Someone has got to make sure that the kid eats something that's not covered in grease."

"Sam. How is it that you manage to suck the fun out of literally everything?"

"One of us has to be responsible for making sure Natalie eats her vegetables, and we both know it isn't going to be you."

"She had ketchup yesterday."

"How many times do I have to tell you? Ketchup is not a vegetable."

"It is made out of tomatoes, Samuel. Therefore- a vegetable."

"Dean."

Dean just grabbed a plate and headed straight for the pizza. Sam sighed. Well, maybe he could do better raising Natalie, because clearly he had failed with Dean. After loading up, they went back to their table. Once Natalie had eaten enough salad to please Sam, she immediately beelined it right for the pepperoni. Dean smiled widely when she came back with her plate piled with at least three different kinds of pizza.

"Branching out a little. Good for you, kiddo!" Dean said, patting her on the back. She just grinned and ripped off a bite of pepperoni and olives.

"There's like a thousand kinds up there!" Natalie said excitedly, forgetting that she was supposed to chew and swallow first. Sam looked at her with one eyebrow raised. By now, she knew exactly what that meant. She slunk down in her seat a little bit, chewed and swallowed quickly, then said quietly, "Sorry, Uncle Sam."

"For what?" Dean asked her, his own mouth full. She snickered a laugh. Sam just looked at his brother in disbelief. "Hey," Dean said to his daughter. "Bet you can't guess how many kinds of pizza they have up there without counting. If you win, you get to have dessert first tomorrow night."

Natalie's face lit up at the new and unexpected game with her dad. She tried to picture the buffet in her mind and counted what she could remember."Um...let me think," she said, stalling for time. She didn't want to get it wrong- not because she really cared all that much about dessert, but she wanted to make Dean proud. "There are...18?" she guessed, then looked up anxiously into Dean's face. He was counting the pizzas that were there. Her heart fell when he made an "oh" with his face, indicating that she was wrong.

"So close- there are 21," Dean said. He noticed the despondent look on her face, and nudged her gently. "It's okay. You'll get it next time." She grinned at him, and went right back to eating. The three Winchesters were silent for a while, getting down to the real heart of what made them tick- eating. When they had all finished off the pizza on their plates, Dean turned excitedly to Natalie again.

"Hey- bet you I can try more kinds than you!"

"You're on! And if I win, then I get to pick what we watch on TV tonight!" she said, racing away from the booth. Dean just laughed. She was so competitive, that any challenge was immediately to be conquered, and she was going to come out the champion. He chuckled and watched her. Sam looked up at him, confused.

"I thought you were going to try to get more kinds that her?" he asked.

"I am."

"You expecting the pizza to magically appear in front of you?"

"Dude, there ain't no way she can fit much more into that tiny body of hers. I'll clean up her leftovers."

That proved to be a big mistake. Once Natalie realized that Dean had only said "try", not "finish", all she had to do was take one bite of each slice, and she had technically "tried" it. He couldn't keep up with all that pizza, even if he was Dean 'The Garbage Disposal' Winchester. He finally admitted defeat, leading his daughter to sing a chorus of "I Am the Champion" and listing off possibly television shows that they would have to endure tonight. Despite the fact that he was about to explode from all the food, he still laughed at her antics. His eyes roamed around the restaurant, and landed on the self serve soda machine. His eyes lit up at their next opportunity.

"Hey," he said, interrupting her chorus. "Bet you that you won't get a Suicide drink and try it."

Natalie's face was alive with Dean's next challenge. "What's a Suicide drink?"

"It's when you get all the sodas combined into one."

"Bring it. And if I win-" She was about to slide out of the booth, when once again, Sam's hand stopped her.

"Yeah. Not in this lifetime," he said, keeping a grip on his niece. She immediately gave him her own bitch face, but plopped back down, disgruntled, into her seat. Dean just stared at Sam.

"Okay, seriously dude. Did you like take a joy-sucking class at Stanford or something? Or is this a natural gift? Just ruining everyone's fun?"

Sam ignored his brother and turned to Natalie. "I'm doing you a favor. Your dad dared me to do the same thing once, and it is absolutely disgusting. Especially if there's orange soda in the machine," Sam explained to the pouting seven year old. Natalie twisted around to look- sure enough, there was orange soda in there.

"Oh," she said, the crabby look dropping off her face. "Then thanks, I guess."

"You're welcome," Sam said patronizingly. He then made a face at his brother, who was still puzzling over Sam's ability to put a damper on absolutely everything.

"Have you had to work on this? Like practice sucking the joy out of any given situation? How does one do that, exactly? Practice it, I mean," Dean said, still mocking his little brother.

"Shut up," Sam growled. "Anyways, what is with this whole betting thing that you two suddenly have going on?"

"It's fun!" Natalie piped up, defending her father.

"It's dumb. You think for one minute your dad plays fair when it comes to stuff like this?"

"I am insulted by that, Samuel. It is not my fault that I am more awesome that you, and always win at everything. Because you suck."

"No, you playing childish betting games with a seven year old is cheating. It'd be like playing poker with her without explaining the rules. You're always going to cheat, which makes you a loser."

"You're the Loser," Dean shot back without even thinking. "And I do not cheat. I would never demean poker by cheating. It being the noble game that it is." He suddenly sat up straight. "Hold on a minute." He turned to his seven year old. "Natalie- have I taught you how to play poker yet?"

"Nope."

Nothing could stop the evil grin from spreading on Dean's face. "I bet I know what we're doing tonight."

*SPN SPN SPN*

After they paid at the pizza place, they made their way back to the motel. The sun had set, so they had at least some relief from the sticky heat. When they arrived at their current home, Dean made Natalie change into her pajamas right away. Even though this elicited a round of grumbles from the child, Dean knew that getting her into her pajamas now would mean that they could spend more time on the card game, which he intended on teaching his seven year old, right then and there. After she had begrudgingly done what she was told, with plenty of fussing, she made her way towards the table, clad in her Batman pajama bottoms and a Frozen tee shirt.

"This isn't fair," Natalie protested, climbing into her chair.

"Enough about the pajamas Natalie," Dean said, a warning in his voice. He was getting tired of fighting the bedtime battle, night after night after night. She was a pretty well behaved kid- except when it came to bed time. She would try to worm her way out of it, every night, anyway she could. Changing up tactics, pleading, tantrums- he had seen it all. It was a lot to endure for seven years running.

"I wasn't talking about the pajamas. Even though they're stupid..."

"Natalie Grace."

She gulped once, then explained herself. "This game isn't going to be fair."

"And how's that?" Sam asked, tossing a deck of cards onto the table. He hadn't been keen on the idea of Natalie learning the game, but once Dean reminded him of a certain life saving hand of poker that he himself had won, his mood had altered quickly. He didn't want to think about that moment anymore than he had to, so for once he chose not to fight his brother and just gave in.

"Because you two have been playing it forever," she said. "You're so way older than me, you've been doing it for years."

"Yeah, yeah, enough with the 'old' jokes," Dean said, recovering a bit of his humor while shuffling the cards.

"It would be way more fun if someone else was here that didn't know the game either," Natalie said, a touch of mischief in her voice. Dean caught on just one second too late. Just as he was taking a breath to say "Don't you dare," Natalie called out in a singsong voice.

"Castiel!"

All of the sudden, the angel appeared, right behind Dean, causing him to jump.

"Cas!" he roared, slamming the deck onto the table. "How many times, man? Huh? How many times?"

"How many times what, Dean?"

"How many times have I told you not to zap up right behind me?!"

"One hundred and twenty seven."

"And none of those times ever got through to you? Ever? Not one?"

"No." Cas turned to Natalie. "Hello, Natalie Grace."

"Hey Cas!" Natalie chirped. She liked hearing her full name much better coming from Cas's lips than her father's. "How are you?"

"I am well. And yourself?"

"Cool. About to learn how to play poker, and I wanted you to learn, too."

"Very well," the angel said, seating himself down at the table.

Dean stared at Cas, dumbfounded. "Dude, how is it when I try to call you, you sometimes just pretend that you can't even hear me. But the kid wants anything, and you jump to her service?"

Castiel just shrugged. "I can hear her clearly. Perhaps you should try enunciating. Or asking nicely."

"Yeah, not going to happen," Dean grumbled.

"See? This is why no one can understand you, Dean. You spend so much time growling at everything."

Dean waved his hands impatiently. "Alright, alright. Enough chit chat. Let's get our poker on." Natalie sat up quickly, her full attention on her father. Dean finished shuffling the deck, and dealing out the cards. "We're going to be playing Texas Hold 'Em."

"I thought we were playing poker," Cas said, confused.

"We are. Texas Hold 'Em is a kind of poker, Cas," Sam explained helpfully.

"Then why don't they just call it that instead of Poker?"

"Why don't you call all angels "angels"? Why the different categories? Archangel, Cherubim, Seraphim...?" Dean questioned, looking Cas right in the eye with his "you're being stupid again" look.

"Because they're different. Not all angels are alike."

"And not all poker is alike. Different names for different games."

"But if it's a different game, then it's not poker."

Natalie laid a tiny hand on Cas's arm, stopping the flow of words. "It's a human thing, Cas," she said simply. Cas looked at her peacefully.

"Oh. Well, that makes sense then."

"I don't know why I even bother talking around you two," Dean grumbled again.

"Once again, your talking would be improved by enunciating."

Natalie giggled, but squeezed Cas's arm, where she still had hold. "Not the best time, dude." The angel just nodded, showing the child he understood. Dean looked desperately to Sam, holding his hand up to Cas as if to say _Can you believe this?_ Sam chuckled in response. With another disgruntled shake of his head, Dean got back down to dealing.

"Alright. Everybody has two cards. Then the dealer- me- puts three cards, face down, on the table."

"But if they're face down, no one can see them," Cas said, thinking that Dean was missing a crucial point here.

"That's the idea, asshat. You make the first round of betting based on the cards in your hand."

"What are we supposed to bet with?" Natalie asked, curious. Dean shrugged.

"We'll figure out something. So. You bet the first round with just your two cards. Then, I turn over the three face down cards- they're called the Flop."

"Why are they called the Flop?" Natalie piped up, leaning over the table so she could see the cards better.

"No idea. Then, you do another round of betting based off the five cards- the three on the table, and the two in your hand. You add one more card to the Flop- this card is called the Turn."

"Do you need to turn it around for some reason? Is that why it's called the Turn?"

"No, Cas. Then another round of betting with the six cards- you're trying to make the best five card hand you can. One more card on the table, and it's called the River. And before either of you ask-" Dean held up his hand, stopping both the angel and the child from interrupting, "-I don't know why it's called the River."

"It's because it's the last wild card in the game, and if it's the wrong card, it can send you down the river," Sam explained with a grin. Dean didn't even look at him. He just made a sucking sound with his mouth, indicating that once again Sam was sucking the fun out of everything with his nerdiness.

"You're just jealous because you didn't know," Sam said tauntingly. Dean scoffed at him. He went on to explain all about how to bet- the blinds, the antes, going all in. Castiel's looked became more and more confused, while Natalie's face lit up as Dean's hypnotic voice pulled her in. Finally, Dean gathered up all the cards from the practice hand he had dealt.

"Alright, you two. Got it?" he asked, looking from the angel to his daughter.

"Yes, sir," said Natalie.

"Not at all," said Cas.

"Then let's play," said Dean. He dealt out the cards quickly. Everyone picked up their two cards, and looked at them. Dean couldn't help but notice that Natalie had pulled her cards close to her chest, and was looking around the table suspiciously. He knew she was playing at being a mega-international poker star, imitating what she had seen people do on TV, and he couldn't help but grin. It was so damn cute when she did crap like that. Dean looked surreptitiously at his own hand. King and an 8. Not awful. He looked around the table, seeing if anyone had any "tells". Natalie was concentrating, Cas looked confused, and Sam's face was perfectly stoic. So no help there.

"Alright. First round of betting," Dean said. "Kiddo, you're up."

"What are we betting with?"

Dean thought a minute. "Do it like what we were doing at the restaurant. Start with small stuff, then we'll work up to bigger stuff."

"Okay!" Natalie said, instantly attracted by the idea. "I bet getting to pick the first tape we listen to in the car tomorrow."

"I told you to start with the little stuff."

She just giggled in response. Dean made a mock displeased face at her, which made her giggle harder.

"I'm altering that, because, as we all know, House Rules trump everything." He laid his cards down on the table, and looked his daughter right in the eye. "What are the house rules again?"

"Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole."

"That's my girl. Alright. So what's on the table now is getting to pick ONE song in the car tomorrow. Next?"

Sam was up next. He knocked on the table once, indicating that he was calling. Castiel looked at Sam's hand.

"Why did you knock on the table, Sam?" he asked curiously.

"I'm calling, Cas."

"Isn't that supposed to be done on the telephone?"

"Poker term. It means that I accept Natalie's bet, I bet the same thing, but I'm not adding anything more to the pot."

"And the pot is where we keep all the bets."

"Exactly! Good job, Cas!" Natalie squealed excitedly.

"Yeah, yeah, the angel's getting the game, good job," Dean said. "Come on, Cas, what do you do?"

"Generally, I assist with the works of Heaven."

"In the game, moron."

"Oh. Of course." Cas made a big show of rapping his knuckles on the table, then looked to Natalie to see if he did that right. She smiled her heart stopping smile at him, which made him actually smile in return.

"I call, too," Dean said. He turned over the Flop. Jack, Ten, Seven. Dean quickly thought through his options. If the Turn or the River had a nine, he'd have a straight. He looked at the seven year old, and saw her calculating as well.

"What are the hands again, Dad?" she asked anxiously. Dean pushed a small slip of paper towards her with all the hands on it, in ranking order. "Thanks," she murmured quietly, staring intensely at the paper. Dean caught Sam's eye and grinned- she was having fun with this, which made them both happy. This time, when it came to Cas's turn to bet, he looked quizzically at Dean.

"I don't have anything in either hand worth betting. What should I do?"

Sam hung his head with a sigh. "Cas- that's what's known as a "tell", man."

"And that's a good thing," Dean said hurriedly, cutting Sam off. "It means you tell us what you have in your hand." He looked at his daughter quickly and winked, showing her that he was just messing with the angel, who promptly looked confused again. Even Sam found himself smothering a laugh at the situation.

"You never mentioned that before, Dean. It seems rather important," Cas complained.

"Yeah, my fault, man. Person to the dealer's right always has a "tell"," Dean said, his face a perfect mask of composure. Natalie suddenly became very interested in her lap, and Dean could see her shoulders shaking with laughter.

"I see. Have I fulfilled my obligations for my "tell"?" Cas asked, wanting to make sure he had gotten the game right.

"Absolutely, man," Dean said, clapping him on the back. Another round of betting, and Dean turned the River card. No nine, and no help for him. However, it was revealed that Natalie ended up with the high hand with a pair of sixes. Her eyes lit up in delight.

"So that means that I get to pick four songs tomorrow, right?" she asked Dean excitedly. He shook his head and avoided her gaze.

"Nope. Just the one."

"But if we all bet the same thing, then doesn't that mean there were four songs in the pot?" Natalie asked, working out the logic. Dean bit the inside of his cheek. Dammit. The kid was smarter than he'd given her credit for. Sam was grinning wildly.

"Well, she picked up on the nuances of this game fast," Sam said, his voice cracking from the glee. He stood up and went to retrieve a notebook from his backpack. "I gotta write all this down, so we can make sure everyone gets their payout at the end." Dean just rolled his eyes and made another sucking noise at his brother.

The game went on from there, with Sam and Dean winning the majority of the hands, but Natalie surprising them every now and then by picking up a hand. Bets flew right and left. After a couple hours, Dean had laundry duty for the next two weeks, Sam was paying for the next five tanks of gas, Natalie was cleaning out the Impala, and Castiel was so in debt that it was unlikely he'd ever pay any of it off.

Dean kept his eye on the clock. He was having a blast, and so was the kid, which was great- and awful. He was already dreading the moment of telling Natalie that it was bedtime. She was going to throw everything she had into avoiding it tonight, he could already feel it. He didn't want the night ruined by having to get strict with her, but neither was he going to let her get away with disobeying him. He loved his daughter too much to let her run all over him. She was a good kid- she just hated bedtime. He could never figure out why, but she was bound and determined to get as little sleep as humanly possible.

As if she could read his mind, Natalie suddenly turned and looked at him. He just smiled and winked at her, which made her smile that smile that always made his heart stop, just for a moment.

"Dad? You gonna deal?" she asked innocently, shaking Dean from his reverie. He smirked at her.

"Geez, you're bossy," he teased.

"Just waiting for you to lose the next hand," she said without missing a beat. Sam barked a laugh at that. Dean stuck his tongue out at her, prompting her to stick it back out. That resulted in a rapid fire contest between the two of them as to who could make the dumbest face at each other. Dean almost cracked several times, hearing his daughter exploding with laughter as he made goofy face after goofy face at her.

"Is this what is generally called a Poker Face?" Castiel asked curiously. Dean stopped laughing and just did a slow burn to Cas. He couldn't even find the words. He just shook his head at the angel. Natalie, however, was growing impatient at the halt in the game.

"Deal!" Natalie demanded. Dean immediately turned to look at her, one eyebrow raised. She gulped again, and lowered her voice. "Please deal?" she asked hesitantly.

"That's better," Dean said. He then stuck his tongue out quickly at her once more, letting her know she wasn't in trouble anymore. She giggled, but sat up in her chair excitedly. Dean quickly dealt out the hands. Natalie pulled her cards towards her and snuck a look. She had to struggle not to let her excitement show on her face. She had a Queen and a Ten, same suit. That was really good, but she had to play it cool. After the first round of betting, Dean revealed the Flop. The cards were Nine, Jack, and Ten. She almost had a straight! At the very least, she had a pair of tens, which was pretty decent. She looked around the table. Sam and Cas both looked like they were disappointed, but Dean's face was typically stoic. Natalie's eyes narrowed looking at her father, trying to figure out what he might have.

The second round of betting began. Sam tossed his cards down, disgruntled. "Fold," he said, leaning back in his chair. Cas looked at Sam, copying exactly what he was doing, including tossing his cards down and folding himself. Dean was perfectly calm, as he called. Natalie, however, laid down the gauntlet, Winchester style.

"I bet- that Dad won't eat pie for a week." That got everyone's attention, most especially Dean's. He looked at his daughter, impressed.

"You sayin'- you're all in, kiddo?" he said, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. Natalie returned his stoic look so well, he forgot she was seven for a moment. She looked thirty five.

"Depends on what your call is," she said, her own playful grin teasing across her face. Dean leaned forward, intrigued.

"Alright. I bet that you can't go three days without playing Star Wars," he said. She bit her cheek- that was pretty big- but then grinned.

"You're on."

Dean placed the Turn on the table. It was a King. She had a straight! Her dad was going up the river! As long as the actual River wasn't anything stupid, she had this in the bag. However, she played it cool. She knocked on the table, calling like a pro. Sam couldn't help but chuckle at her serious demeanor. Dean's eyes slowly slid up to her face.

"I'm all in," he said, thinking she was bluffing. Natalie bit her tongue as hard as she could to keep herself from wriggling with excitement.

"What do you bet?" she asked carefully, making sure her tone was casual.

Dean leaned forward, making sure she heard every word he said. "If I win, you go to bed every night when I tell you to, no fussing or stalling. For two weeks." Natalie's mouth dropped in shock. He thought she was bluffing, and so he had brought out the big guns. Sam sat back, his mouth shaping an "oooooo"- he knew exactly what Dean's bet was worth. Natalie's eyes narrowed.

"Fine," she said. "If I win- you have to take me to the next Star Wars movie, and you dress like an Ewok." That made Sam almost choke with laughter, and caused all the blood to drain out of Dean's face. What if the kid WASN'T bluffing? He collected his wits, and willed himself to stay calm.

"You have yourself a deal," he said. Before he could chicken out, he revealed the River. It was a five.

Natalie jumped up, excited beyond all belief. She tossed her cards face up on the table. "Read 'em and weep!" she squealed excitedly. She pumped her tiny fist into the air, cheering.

"You look exactly like your father when you do that. Do you know that?" Castiel asked the child.

"Yeah. I get that a lot," she giggled. Dean was just staring at her cards. Finally he said.

"That's a good hand, kiddo," he admitted. Natalie stood up on her chair, and took an overdramatic bow.

"Thank you, thank you," she said pompously. She turned to Dean. "You're going to look great as an Ewok."

"Well, like I said, it's a great hand."

"I know."

"But..." And now the blood drained from Natalie's face. Dean revealed his cards. He had a Queen too. And an Ace. Which also gave him a straight. One that was higher than hers. "This hand is better," he said with a unchecked grin. Natalie made a huge theatrical groan, but she couldn't suppress her smile.

"Ahhhh! You got me!" she shrieked, clutching her chest like she was having a heart attack. Dean picked her up right off the chair, playfully shaking her back to life. She couldn't help but laugh out loud. He finally set her down on the floor right in front of him, put his hands on his hips, and leaned down right into her face.

"I totally got you. And guess what time it is now," he said, taking the biggest gamble of the night. Her face fell, but unlike every other night, it was resigned instead of gearing up for a fight.

"A bet's a bet," she sighed good naturedly. Dean just chuckled at her. She ran over to the table and into Sam's arms.

"Good night, Uncle Sam," she said sweetly. He kissed her on the top of her head.

"Good night, Bug," he said. "Just so you know, you did bust on a perfectly respectable hand." He tousled her hair. She smirked as she smoothed her hair down. He was trying to ignore the memory of a hand very similar to this, with much larger stakes. It was easier snuggling the cute lump of kid on his lap.

"Thanks," she giggled at him before making her way over to Cas. "Give me a hug, Cas. I have to go to bed now," she said, making another face.

"Your poker face is improving," he complimented her as he folded her into his arms. She giggled as Sam and Dean rolled their eyes in tandem. As soon as he released the child, he disappeared in true Castiel fashion. Natalie sighed again. She had hoped that Cas being here would buy her a couple minutes, but apparently, she was completely out of luck today. She drug her feet over towards the sofa where her bed was made up. Dean was waiting, sitting on the end of the couch, holding her blanket back. His shit-eating grin couldn't be contained. Natalie countered it by climbing up on the couch and onto his lap. She threw her arms around his neck, and looked his right in the eye.

"I really liked playing poker," she said charmingly.

"You're a natural, kid."

"Except for epically busting."

"You heard Uncle Sam. You busted on a great hand."

"Still have to go to bed."

"Yes, you do. Come on- let's go." She laid down immediately, taking this bet very seriously. Dean closed his eyes for a moment, savored the lack of fussing like it was the coldest beer in the world. He tucked in her blanket around her, leaned down and kissed her forehead. He really hadn't expected her to not fuss, and was so pleased and proud of her. He stayed leaned down, close to her face, just for another moment longer.

"Tell you what. When we go see the next Star Wars, I'll totally let you pick out all the candy you want," he said, bobbing his eye brows at her. She smiled the smile that made his heart stop again.

"It's a deal!" she said, smiling up at the person who was the reason she always wanted to smile.


	50. Exs and Ohs

**Hey Beautiful SPN Family! We made it! Chapter 50 on Natalie's Birthday! WAHOO!**

 **So April 24th has always been a very important day in my personal life for a myriad of reasons. I decided early on to give Natalie that birthday, then come to find out it's Baby's birthday too. And Eric Kripke's. So I kinda feel like I HAVE to publish something in appreciation of all that these characters and people have done for me- and that included YOU too.**

 **I wouldn't still be here writing if it weren't for you guys. Your support, reviews, questions, and interest mean so much to me. I cannot nor will I ever be able to thank you enough. I promise to keep writing as long as you want to read- that's the best I can do for you all. Your support helps me Always Keep Fighting. And I will.**

 **Jenmm31 has been my cheerleader since day one. I was just a huge fangirl of her work that found an amazing friend. Jenmm31- for everything, I thank you. Natalie wouldn't be here, and neither would I, if it weren't for you. Thank you my dear, dear friend.**

 **Alright, enough sappy stuff :) I'm going to be working on a couple case stories here, as well as a couple requested one-shots, but it'll be a couple weeks- about how long I normally take to publish. If you want to read something, let me know! I'm always willing to talk about anything. Love you all, so much.**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is 13. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

"Oh, SCORE!" Natalie shrieked, dumping the gift bag's contents onto her lap and examining them meticulously. Dean had gotten her every flavor of prepackaged mini Hostess pies that was available at the gas station. He had tossed in a couple extra cherry flavored ones, knowing that they were her favorite. She giggled delightedly, not even trying to hold her smile in. She did a quick count of the wrapped mini pies in her lap, and let out a bark of a laugh exactly like Dean's.

"HA! Thirteen, of course," she said, grabbing a cherry and ripping the wrapper open. She took as big of a bite as she possibly could. Dean snorted a laugh, watching her shovel in the junk food.

"Of course," he said, in reference to the number. "Not every day a kid turns thirteen- we had to celebrate in style." He gestured to the pile in her lap, then turned to Sam with a shit-eating grin. He knew he had hit this one out of the park. Sam restrained from rolling his eyes, only because it was Natalie's birthday. But he couldn't help himself when it came to commenting on the sugary gift.

"Bug, you know you can't eat them all at once- you'll get sick," he said gently, trying to make sure that he wasn't nagging. Dean had been getting on his case recently about his tendency to "over-mother" the girl, as Dean put it. Sam was just concerned that Natalie's hyper-excitement might make her sick already, then dumping about a truck load of sugar on it would make her even worse. He didn't see it as nagging or fussing- he simply saw it as taking care of his niece . However, she had way too much of her father in her to agree with him.

"I know that," she responded with a saucy grin, her mouth full. Her grin got wider when she saw Sam's bitch face at the fact that she was talking with her mouth full- a particular hot button with him. She also knew him well enough that he wouldn't scold her for it today- not on her birthday. She had no problem gloating over and exploiting that fact.

At seeing Natalie's genuine grin, both Sam and Dean's hearts turned a bit. She had been clamping down on her smile for months now. Her capture and torture at the hands of a man who thought her smile was beautiful seemed to have taken some weird psychological turn in her brain. She had been smothering and hiding her smiles ever since. Today, however, they were back with a vengeance. Dean prayed that this meant that she was over whatever it was that was keeping her from smiling. He missed her real smiles.

All that aside, the newly-turned thirteen year old continued chomping down on the cherry treat. "C'mon, Uncle Sam," she said with a mighty swallow. "I'm going to make these last as long as possible. Besides, you of all people know that I eat just as many vegetables as junk food."

"Lie," Sam said casually, pointing a finger at her. She just giggled. Ever since she started talking, Sam knew when she was lying, and had no problem calling her out on it.

"Okay, okay. I try to eat as many vegetables..."

"Lie."

She rolled her eyes good naturedly. "Okay, I at least THINK about it," she said, tilting her head at him coyingly.

"There you go," he said, dropping his finger and grinning back at her.

"At least I eat more vegetables than Dad."

Dean shook his head, and stood up from the kitchen table to go get a beer. "Yeah, I still don't know where you get that from, kiddo." He retrieved a cold one from the fridge, then walked back to his daughter, a solemn look on his face. He placed a hand on her shoulder with a very serious expression. "The fact that you actually eat and enjoy vegetables means I've failed you as a father." He shook his head dramatically. Natalie held in her snickers, knowing he wasn't done yet. He pulled his hand away from her shoulder, and put it on his chest, closing his eyes as if pained. "I'm...sorry," he whispered theatrically, then bit his knuckles and walked away, shaking his head. Natalie exploded with laughter at his dramatic turn. He plopped down in his chair and pulled the tab on his beer, his grin and the twinkle in his eye returning upon hearing her laugh.

"It's okay," Natalie said, wiping her eyes from the mirth. "You can make it up to me by getting me my own car when I turn sixteen."

"Yeah. Keep dreaming, squirt," Dean muttered low, lifting the can to his mouth. Eager to get on with the gift giving, Sam tossed her a small package. Natalie grabbed it mid air effortlessly. From the heft and the size, she knew exactly what it was. Her eyes lit up, and they flicked up to Sam's for confirmation. He just grinned back. She quickly tore off the newspaper wrapping to find one of her favorite things of all time- a book. She squealed in delight again. Sam couldn't help but remember her sixth birthday, when she squealed at the sight of the new plastic light saber he had bought her. The rush of the sweet memory made him nostalgic for when she was little. She was growing up so fast- and he wasn't taking it well. The fact that she could now reach things on the shelf that she couldn't before- that alone nearly sent him into a tailspin every time he thought about it. He wouldn't change her for the world- he just wished that he could slow time down a little. _Well, I know what I'm wishing for on my birthday,_ he thought wryly to himself.

Natalie turned the book over in her hands to see the title. "'Memoirs of a Geisha'," she read out loud. She looked up at Sam, her eyes dancing with excitement. "I've been dying to read this!" she said enthusiastically.

"I know," Sam said, thrilled to his core that he'd gotten this one right. When she was a kid, she would just crawl on their laps and tell them exactly what she wanted, eliminating all guess work. Now that she was older and not so inclined to do that anymore, there was a certain sense of panic when it came to gift giving. She was so sweet that no matter what they would have given her, she would have been over the moon about it. But to actually hit the nail on the head and get her something that she wanted- that was a challenge that both boys sought to conquer.

"Why didn't you just read it online, like you do everything else?" Dean asked before taking another long pull of beer. Natalie looked at him as if the answer was obvious.

"Because it's just not the same as holding the book in your hands," she explained patiently, knowing that Dean didn't realize how vital reading was to her sanity. She pulled the book in tightly to her chest, her thousand watt smile going unchecked. Sam hadn't seen it in so long. He felt like he was getting his own gift in seeing it again. "Thank you so much, Uncle Sam," she said breathlessly. He just nodded back, smiling widely.

"Okay, now for the grand finale," Dean said, reaching into the paper bag on the table and producing a cellophane wrapped cupcake. Sam looked at his brother incredulously.

"Dude, you just got her thirteen mini pies, and now cake too?" he said, unable to keep his concerns to himself. Dean unwrapped the cupcake and set it down on a paper plate, then began fishing in his pocket.

"Lighten up, Sam. Besides- it's called 'birthday CAKE', not 'birthday pie'."

"Like that's ever stopped you before."

Dean ignored him. He found his flip-top Zippo in his right pocket. He gestured to his daughter to come over to the table. She promptly obeyed, giggling at the sight of the mass produced cupcake sitting on the paper plate. Dean flicked the lighter once, and it spluttered into a flame. He held it over the cupcake with a grin, making Natalie laugh again.

"Really? Couldn't find candles?" she said, not really caring about the candles. She just wanted to give him a hard time. It was a Winchester trait.

"Making do," he said, chuckling back. "Alright. You know the drill. Wish, blow. Get to it," he ordered in a teasing tone.

"Yeah- this is the part where you're supposed to sing."

"THAT'S never gonna happen. C'mon. Chop chop."

Natalie laughed. She squeezed her eyes shut, just like she used to do when she was a kid. Suddenly, Dean remembered her pitching pennies into a wishing well when she was around five. She made that exact same face then that she did now. The tidal wave of emotion rose in him as once again, he realized he no longer had a child; he now had a teenager. He clamped down on it with a vengeance. Didn't matter how old she was- she was still his. Period. That was all that was ever going to be important.

Natalie opened her eyes and blew out the lighter. It, of course, went out instantly. Dean, always the smart ass, flicked it again, the flame instantly re-igniting.

"Oh, looks like you didn't do it right. Now your wish doesn't come true. Tough luck. Maybe next year."

Natalie just laughed and slapped his hand away as he flicked the lighter shut. She grabbed the cupcake and tore it into three pieces, handing one to Sam, then the other to Dean.

"That one's just for you, kiddo. I've got two more for Sam and me," Dean said as she tried to hand him the chunk of cupcake. She pursed her lips and shook her head.

"But I want to share it! It's not fun if I don't get to share my birthday cake," she said, thrusting the piece into his hands. He shook his head. The kid was so damn sweet and loving. He had no idea where she got that from. Sam got up and went to the fridge to fetch his own beer. He made to pull the door open, but then saw the empty plastic six pack ring thrown on the counter next to the fridge. He turned to Dean, a disapproving look on his face.

"You could have at least thrown the rings away," he scolded his brother.

"Oh yeah. Sorry," Dean said, lifting the last can to his lips. His grin indicated that he wasn't sorry in the least. Sam snatched a bottle of water from the fridge instead, then plopped back down into his seat. To everyone's surprise, Dean stood up.

"I'll go make a beer run while you two girl out over that book," he said good naturedly.

"I prefer wine coolers," Natalie said with a grin.

"If that was your birthday wish, boy did you blow that one," Dean said without looking at her as he pulled his jacket on. He could hear her giggling as he exited the room. He slipped his hands into his pocket, reaching for his car keys. There was a wide grin on his face. His kid was officially thirteen- she was smiling- and he was on a beer run. Life was good. He walked next to Baby, pulling out the keys to open the door.

Just as he had that happy thought, he heard a soft footstep coming from the other side of the parking lot in front of him. He froze, but his eyes slid up, immediately scanning for any danger as his hunter's senses took over. All he saw was the darkness. The glow from the low-watt bulbs of the motel overhang illuminated the scraggly bushes placed at the end of the sidewalk- a pathetic attempt at landscaping by the motel owners, but at least they had made an effort. Dean's eyes raked the bushes, but saw nothing. He slowly reached down and unlocked the Impala, his ears straining to hear anything else.

"Dean?" a female voice said quietly, softly.

His head jerked up in surprise. Normally, if he was being attacked, the monster didn't have the decency to announce that it was there first. But he had definitely heard his name. He looked again at the bushes, and stepped back in surprise. A moment ago, no one had been there. Now suddenly, he could easily make out the silhouette of a short female. As his brain tried wildly to comprehend what he was seeing, he wondered to himself how Natalie had gotten out of the room and all the way to the end of the sidewalk without him knowing it. His logical brain was telling him that was impossible, but he was looking at the spitting image of his daughter. As she slowly and carefully walked forward, he started noticing the differences. The female was taller than Natalie. Her hair was longer. And her eyes were a warm chocolate brown. Dean's heart dropped through his feet. He knew those eyes. His lips trembled as he tried to form the name, but the air had left his lungs.

"It's me," the female said, stopping cautiously as she realized that Dean had recognized her. "Jamie."

The world came to a crashing halt. Dean had to remind himself to breath. Before he even knew what he was doing, before his barely conscious mind had registered that he had started to breathe again, he stormed over to the woman. She quickly backed up, clearly wary of the way Dean was barreling down on her. She backed up almost to the bush where she had been hiding, away from the glow of the motel's portico.

"What...the FUCK...are you doing here?" Dean said, his voice nothing but a deep growl. This was the woman who had left his daughter. The woman who had abandoned them both. Natalie's mother.

Dean hadn't seen her since the day Natalie was born. She had given them all the slip, leaving Natalie behind in the hospital room, buckled into a car seat and crying her heart out. After Jamie had taken off at the hospital, Dean and Sam had tried in vain to track her down, but had been unsuccessful. Dean's pain and hurt at Jamie's betrayal had twisted in his soul to an intense hatred of the woman he thought he would never see again- a hatred that he had buried deep in his brain, where only a few dark secrets were kept.

Jamie's eyes widened at the angry words hissed in her face. She seemed to take a deep breath and steel her own nerves. "I...I had to see...I wanted to..." She trailed off as Dean's green eyes burned a hole right through her. Her gaze slid off his furious face to the window of the room he had just exited. "Is she in there?" Jamie asked, her voice little more than a whisper.

"I repeat. What the fuck are you doing here, Jamie?" Dean said, the fury building in his voice. He was two seconds away from ripping her apart. All of the anger, the betrayal, the resentment he had kept blocked up for years broke the dais in his mind and instantly boiled to the surface. He found himself fantasizing about this woman taking one step towards his daughter, giving him an excuse to shoot her through the heart.

"I'm...sorry. I'm so sorry," Jamie said, her gaze moving back to Dean's face. "I cannot tell you how sorry I am. But Dean-"

"But nothing. Get out of here."

"Dean, that's not fair."

"FAIR? You wanna talk fair?" Dean thundered, before remembering he probably shouldn't alert anyone else to what was happening out here. He could barely stand here talking to this bitch himself- he didn't need Sam and Natalie out here too. To think of Natalie coming out here and seeing the woman who betrayed her and left her from birth- a red veil of fury slipped over Dean's already anger-blurred vision. His knuckles cracked as he balled his fists to keep himself from reaching for his gun. "You wanna talk fair?!" he spat at her in an angry hiss. "Fair is having a mother who doesn't abandon you on the fucking day you were born. Fair is being able to grow up with two parents. Fair is not having to tell your ten year old the truth about why the woman who gave birth to her isn't around. Do you have any idea how much that SUCKS? Having to tell your CHILD that her mother abandoned her? That, princess, is not fair. So you wanna talk fair?!"

Jamie shook her head, and tears began spilling down her face. "I know. I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry. I'm messing it all up," she babbled, clearly losing control of her emotions. Dean didn't give a rat's ass. He stood like a human brick wall, not willing to let her take one step towards the room. "Fair wasn't the right word. Out of everybody, I know that I'm the last one who should be talking about the fairness of the situation..."

"Damn straight."

"But if you could just listen-"

Dean held up one large hand. "Don't even try. I'm not interested in anything you have to say."

"If you only knew why I left-"

"You know what Jamie?" Dean hissed at her, dropping his hand and stepping towards her in a menacing way. "I don't give a shit why you left. Because nothing you can say can change the fact that YOU LEFT. You left behind an innocent little girl who needed you. You left me behind, and didn't look back. And there's not a damn thing you can do or say to change that."

"I didn't have a choice, Dean!" she fired back, knowing that it was the only chance she was going to get to speak. The comment brought Dean up short.

"What do you mean, you didn't have a choice?" he spat at her. She shook her head, a determined, angry look on her face.

"I mean I didn't have a choice. I had to leave."

Dean shook his head and let out a mirthless laugh. "Screw that. I have heard that excuse enough in my life. 'I didn't have a choice, I didn't have a choice,'" he said in a mocking tone that seemed to make her wither. He fixed her again with his furiously snapping eyes. "You know what? Fuck that. Jamie, EVERYONE has a choice. You know what's sitting in there?" He pointed to the motel room window. "Team Free Will. Minus an angel. Let me tell you, sweetheart, we all have a choice. No matter what the circumstances."

Jamie's eyes got wide. She seemed to disregard the argument of Free Will, focusing on something else Dean had said. "An...angel? What angel?" she said, stammering over her words. Dean looked at her with consternation.

"Why do you care? Suddenly hanging out with angels? Demons not doing it for you anymore?" he hissed sarcastically at her. She quickly pulled herself back together and shook her head, clamping her lips closed.

"It's just...never mind," Jamie said, shaking her head. She steeled herself and spoke again. "But Dean- I couldn't stay with her. Believe me, I wanted to. I have thought about Natalie every day of her life since I...since I had to leave." Jamie stumbled over her words, the tears overflowing again at the admission of her betrayal. "It's killed me for thirteen years. I want nothing more than to see my baby, to know that she's okay, that she's happy."

"No."

Jamie stepped back, surprised. "N-no?" she squeaked out.

"That's right. No. Because you gave up that right. The moment you walked out on her, you CHOSE to live with the fact that you'll never know how she is, or if she's okay. You chose to put yourself through that hell."

"I told you, I didn't! I didn't have a choice!"

"Really? Then you explain to me what made you make that decision." Dean took a step back, spreading his arms wide. "I'm all ears. Because I know that you know what Sam and I can do. And you know damn well we would have stopped whatever it was. So let's hear it." He waited, trying to keep the anger at bay, as he watched Jamie wrestle with her thoughts. She finally closed her eyes tight. The tears on her lashes glinted in the spring chilled night.

"I...I can't tell you," she whispered, barely loud enough for Dean to hear. But he did. Unbelieving, he stepped closer to her again.

"I'm sorry, what? Because you track us down here at this motel, beg me to understand why you left our daughter, but say that you can't give me one damn reason, so I know I didn't just hear you say that you can't tell me," he spat, hoping his words would cut through her crap.

Jamie just shook her head and dropped it down. The sobs overtook her then. Dean couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret at making her cry like this, but the anger and rage quickly burned the guilt away. He stood there, his hardening heart savage and unfeeling, while she broke down.

"I'm sorry," she finally managed to stammer out. "I will never be able to say it enough. And maybe one day, I can tell you why I did it." Dean just snorted and looked away. Like he ever planned on letting this bitch get near his daughter again. That brought a new question to his mind.

"How did you find us?" he said, low. "I want to make sure you can't again." The words acted like a stimulant in Jamie. She straightened up, and glared back at him. Dean suddenly recognized the fire in her face- it was the same look that Natalie got when she was determined to do something. The realization of that hit him like a ton of bricks. No matter what he was feeling- this woman was part of who Natalie was, even if it was only on a molecular level. He took a breath, but it did nothing to relieve his anger. _Fine. I fake my way through the rest of this,_ he thought bitterly to himself. _Do what you have to in order to get the information you need, and then get rid of this bitch._

Oblivious to Dean's revelations, Jamie flipped her long black hair behind her back. "I have my ways," she answered evasively. Dean's eyes narrowed.

"Did you make some deal with those demons that were chasing you? Because if you did, I swear to God I'm not helping you out of any contract or deal that you made, sweetheart," Dean growled, the threat overriding the sentiment.

"I didn't make any deal. I'm smarter than that."

"But not smart enough to stay with your own child. Or to stay away from me after abandoning that child. Good call."

Jamie just bit her lip to keep the sarcastic rebuttal from pouring out. Baiting Dean and rising to his quips was getting her nowhere. "You're totally safe. No one knows where I am. Hell, no one even knows I'm looking for her. There would be hell to pay if they did," Jamie said quickly, without thinking.

At that, Dean couldn't take it anymore. "Okay, who is this 'They' you keep referring to? Is someone after Natalie?" Dean stormed right up to Jamie, towering over her intimidatingly. "Because if they are and you don't tell me, I swear I will-"

"NO! No, it's nothing like that." She held up her hands, placating. "I- know you're not going to like this, but I can't tell you why."

"Shocker."

"But I can tell you that I'm still not supposed to see her or be here."

"Then why the hell ARE you here?"

The stillness hung in between them like a painful barrier. Dean watched as Jamie swallowed, then opened her mouth. She quickly snapped it shut again and looked away. Finally, when she had composed herself enough to speak, she opened her mouth again.

"Because I couldn't take it any longer," she said simply, the tears pouring down her face once again. "I couldn't take not knowing. I always knew that she would be loved and safe with you and Sam, but I...I don't know her at all. I don't even know what my own daughter likes- what she might have wanted for her birthday. I don't know if she has friends, or if she's...I don't know...allergic to peanuts, or anything." Unable to say anything more without breaking down completely, she looked down and tried to catch her breath. Dean's heart froze in his chest. He couldn't imagine not knowing every little detail about his daughter's life. One miniscule portion of his heart thawed a bit as he watched Natalie's mother sob at the admission that she knew nothing about her own child. Before he could say anything, she spoke up again in a tiny voice.

"Dean- I've forgotten what color eyes she has," she said, losing it completely. Her hands covered her face as she broke into sobs again.

"Green."

The word was out of his mouth before he could stop it. Damn that tiny thawed section of his heart- it had spoken for him. Jamie's head snapped up. Her breath caught as she tried to quell her sobs. "G-green?" she whispered, as if saying it in a normal voice was going to diminish the knowledge. Dean's eyes fixated on the street lamp across the road, unable to make eye contact with her.

"Yeah, green. Like mine," he muttered, putting a subtle emphasis on the word 'mine'.The uncomfortable silence settled between them again. Dean tried to focus on the glow of the street light as a means of distraction, but the silence became too deafening. His eyes flicked back to her. She was gulping, and wiping the tears away from her face with her thumbs. When she noticed that he was looking at her, she gave him a wobbly smile.

"Thank you," she whispered. Dean just gave her a short jerk of his head, acknowledging that he accepted her thanks. Jamie began wringing her hands together.

"Look," she said, in a tight voice. "I know I'm pushing my luck here, but I will regret it forever if I don't ask. And I've already got enough to regret forever. Is she-"

Dean looked Jamie right in the eye. "She's amazing," he said in a quiet voice, knowing what Jamie was going to ask. Jamie could hear the reverence in his tone. And that told her all that she needed to know. She knew from the moment she had met him all those years ago that Dean would never have abandoned his own child, but with those two simple words, she realized how protected, safe, and loved her little girl was- and always would be. For the moment, that was enough.

"I'm glad to hear it," Jamie said, the relief and joy present in her own soft tones. She pinched her eyes shut tight, but said the words that she needed to say. "I know you don't want me here, and I know that I have no right to see Natalie." At the mention of their daughter's name, the tears overflowed from her eyes again. But she paid them no mind- they didn't seem to pain her any longer. "I won't bother you again. I promise," Jamie said quietly. Dean inhaled fully, tilting his head back slightly. He still didn't trust her as far as he could throw her, but at least she was saying words that he wanted to hear. "I'm sorry. To both her- and you," she said honestly, looking him in the eye. Dean nodded once, but didn't say anything. She turned and walked into the darkness. Dean watched her as long as he could take it, then he swallowed the massive lump in his throat and looked down at the gritty black pavement, trying to collect his scattered thoughts. He raised his head again, but Jamie was nowhere in sight. Dean quickly scanned the entire area, but there was no trace that anyone had been there a moment ago. His hunter's hearing picked up on crunching gravel further down the block- she must have walked out of sight. She had done it again. She had left her daughter. But this time didn't feel sinister. He didn't know what to feel.

Dean spun on his heel and walked straight back to the motel room. All ideas of making a beer run were forgotten. He unlocked the door and threw it open with more force than he intended, causing both Sam and Natalie to jump a mile at the sudden crashing sound.

"Back so soon?" Sam said, a bit wide eyed at Dean's sudden reappearance.

"I hope you got the good wine coolers," Natalie said, the twinkle in her eye spreading to her voice. Dean's intense green eyes zeroed in on her face. She grinned that grin at him that always made his heart stop. "Because if you didn't, then-" She didn't get to finish her sentence. In three strong, commanding steps, Dean had raced over to her, yanked her up off the couch, and crushed her into his chest. She cut off her words in surprise. Normally, Dean wasn't touchy feely with her. Of course he hugged her, but he was more inclined to turn a hug into a wrestling match than a tender moment. But this time, he just held her. Natalie had no idea why, but she could sense the desperation and the pain radiating from her father like it was her own. She didn't know what happened, but she didn't need to. She didn't ask questions or make any smart remarks- she just held him too, squeezing him tighter when he buried his face in her hair. She wasn't letting go.

Dean never told Sam or Natalie what happened that night.


	51. Perks of Being Popular Part 1

**Good Morning you beautiful person you!**

 **Here's another case story for you. I won't be long winded, I'll just let you get right to it :)** **Special thanks to Jenmm31 for beta-ing, musing, and friending!**

 **You know the drill, gorgeous. Read, Review, Enjoy!**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is 16. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

 **Part 1**

Sam stretched out his long arms, and rolled towards the small end table between his and Dean's beds. He blinked sleepily at the digital clock on the motel bed stand. 7:17. Huh. He had actually managed to sleep in a bit, even if it was only about forty five minutes longer than normal. He'd take it. He rubbed his eyes and looked around the room. Sure enough, Natalie had been up and about. The motel that they had been at for the past two weeks was about a block from a little coffee shop. She had gotten in the habit of doing a very early morning jog- usually around five thirty or so, then walking to the coffee shop and coming back with the morning coffee for the boys and a hot chocolate for herself, just in time for them to wake up. Sam's eyes drifted towards the table. Yep- just as he suspected- two to-go cups of coffee were waiting there. Ah, the Coffee Wench had been hard at work.

He dragged himself out of bed and stumbled towards the bathroom, then made his way back towards the table. He looked at the two cups- sure enough, one was labeled "Jerk" and one was labeled "Bitch". He rolled his eyes, picked up the "Bitch" coffee, and took a swallow. It was made just the way he liked it. She always got it so perfectly that he almost didn't mind her colorful name choices on labeling. Almost. His eyes continued to roam around the room. She had managed to pack up all their lore books and gear, but the laptops were still out. He chuckled to himself. It was like having a personalized maid, having her around. They had put their latest case to bed two days ago. The boys used yesterday to heal up, and they were all planning on hitting the road today as soon as they could find their next location. He was a bit surprised that she wasn't searching away on her laptop- usually where he found her when they first woke up. She wouldn't have wandered off without leaving a text or a note. He double checked his phone on the end table, trying to be quiet, as Dean was still snoring away. No messages. His brow wrinkled. He walked over towards the door and opened it.

Natalie was leaning up against a column in front of their room that was supporting the low-hanging overhead of the cheap motel. The paint on the column was desperately in need of being refreshed- Sam could see where whole chunks of it had been peeled off- but Natalie didn't seem to mind. She was resting one shoulder on it, her feet crossed casually, like she was just enjoying the view. Sam looked down at her hands. She had a red to-go cup in them, just like he thought she would. She was watching a line of kids around her age walking towards the public school that was about three blocks away from them.

"Have a great day!" she was calling out to them. Some of them looked oddly at her, some of them waved, some of them scowled. But she clearly didn't give a rat's ass about their reactions. She continued to call out with a slightly patronizing tone. Sam stared at her, trying to figure out what she was up to.

"Hey- good luck on that test! Have a great day indoors! Enjoy your standardized education!"

"What in the world are you doing?" Sam asked, his voice still a little gruff from sleep.

"Gloating."

"Seriously?"

"Yup."

"Why?"

She shrugged, a mischievous grin on her face. "Why not?"

"That's not very nice."

"I never said it was nice, Uncle Sam."

"Do you really think it's a good idea? You're not exactly going to win friends like this."

She turned to him and looked up- her small stature of 5'1 to his gargantuan stature of 6'5 causing her to crane her neck back. "Who cares? It's not like I'm ever going to see them again. Or that I ever knew them in the first place." She turned back, a smug smile on her face. Sam just shook his head and sipped his coffee. There was no doubt that she had thrived under the tutelage of Dean and himself. She had been on the road with them full time for ten years now, with Sam homeschooling her, and Dean hunter-training her. She was completely on course for where a girl at the age of sixteen should be, according to the government's laws on education, and actually, even more so. She was so advanced that Sam had no doubt she could have passed her GED with flying colors, but both he and Dean had agreed to make her wait for another year to take it. Sam wanted to make sure that if she decided to go to college that she would be with other kids that were relatively her own age. Unbeknownst to him, however, Dean agreed, simply because he knew his kid too well. He knew she had no desire to go to college; she would choose to keep studying on her own instead. She seemed to feel that once that GED was in her hands, she was ready for the hunting world, full time. Dean was still hesitant about that- she was only sixteen, for crap's sake- he was more than willing to let Sam pump the brakes on her education so he didn't have to be the bad guy for once.

Sam was taking another swallow of coffee, when Natalie waved again to a particularly surly and sleepy looking group of kids walking towards the school. "Only seven more months of drudgery! Have a great day!"

"Alright, that's enough," he said, as the teens were shooting daggers in her direction. Sam took her by the arm and all but shoved her back into the room. She complied with a bit of a giggle, willingly trotting back through the door. She quickly glanced at Dean's empty bed- he must have been in the bathroom. She turned back to Sam, a cocky smile on her face. Sam shook his head at her, unimpressed by her immaturity.

"You're a little brat, do you know that?" he said, the hint of a laugh in his voice betraying the stern look on his face. In response, she held up her own to-go cup of hot chocolate. Sam saw she had "Brat" written on the outside of her cup. He couldn't help but laugh at the adorable grin she gave him in response. It was like she was five all over again when she did that.

"You love me and you know it," she taunted playfully. She plopped down at the table and opened the lid to her laptop.

"You're just lucky that we didn't make you go to public school like we had to."

"Of course I'm lucky. I've got the best teachers in the world."

"Quit trying to suck up."

"Is it working?"

"No."

"But you know I'm right. You're the best freaking teacher out there."

"Still not going to help you convince your Dad to let you drive the Impala."

She snickered. "Fine. I still stand by the fact that you're the best." Sam looked up, and she was giving her a rare, affectionate smile. His heart warmed a bit. Maybe he would help her convince Dean, just this once... _DAMMIT,_ he thought to himself. _THIS is how she gets me, every time._

Just then, Dean came out of the bathroom. He was wiping his just-washed hands on his sweatpants, causing Sam to roll his eyes. Didn't matter how old Dean was- he was never going to mature. No doubt in his mind that this was exactly where Natalie got it from.

"Morning, Dad."

"Morning, Coffee Wench. Ah. The fruits of your labor." Dean plucked his cup off the table. He looked with a grimace at the name written on it, until it dawned on him. "Did you really get them to write "Bitch" on Sam's?" When Natalie nodded, Dean grinned. "Heh heh."

"Thank you," Natalie said, accepting the low chuckle as praise, her eyes never leaving her computer screen as she scanned for new cases.

"Find anything yet?" Dean asked.

"Just started."

"You just started? What have you been doing all morning?"

"She was taunting the kids who were walking to school," Sam interjected, a tone of displeasure still in his voice. However, it was mitigated by the fact that Dean grinned wildly.

"That's my girl," he said, raising his coffee cup to her in salute. She gave a little forehead salute back, her eyes still locked on the screen. "Guess I should be doing the same thing, huh?" he said, gesturing to her open laptop.

"That'd be great- I'm coming up with a fat lot of nothing here," she grumbled, irritated at the lack of cases presenting themselves.

"Scoot," he said, using his hands to wave her away. She stared up at him incredulously.

"Why can't you use yours?"

"Because yours is already opened and fired up."

"I'm working on this one."

"And as far as I can see, getting nowhere."

"This is my laptop!"

"Yeah, that I gave you. Move."

With a muttered curse, she reluctantly got up. Dean immediately plopped into her vacated chair. "Don't know what you're going to find there. It's pretty quiet right now." Dean didn't answer, so she grabbed her duffel bag and headed for the shower. If she couldn't find anything- any new leads or cases- she was convinced he wouldn't. However, by the time she was ready for the day, Dean was leaning way back in his chair, feet on the table. The grin on his face indicated that he had, indeed, found something, and was just waiting for her to get out of the bathroom to show off. His cocky grin aimed right at her made her purse her lips together in annoyance.

"You know, it's not nice to gloat," she said, using Sam's words from earlier this morning.

"I didn't say it was nice," Dean said. She didn't even need to look at Sam to know he was shaking with silent laughter.

*SPN SPN SPN*

They had just pulled on to the highway, when Dean started in, describing the case he found. "Okay, Scooby Gang. This is what we're looking at. All girls' boarding school in Massachusetts. Two suspicious deaths in three months. Details line up together to indicate it's the same person. Murder weapons found close to both victims, but no fingerprints, tracks, DNA, nothin'."

"What makes you think this is us? Our kind of case?" Sam asked.

Dean smirked and looked sideways at his brother. "Because mysteriously, in both cases, on the nights of the murders, all the security cameras around the campus went out. No video footage of anything suspicious before, but a dead body after all the static cleared."

"Could be a serial killer with a signal disruptor," Natalie chimed in from the backseat.

"Except that in both cases, it was only the video footage that was disrupted. All the other computers and iPods and, I don't know, VCRs stayed online."

"VCRs? Really, Dad?"

"Shut up."

"Any connection between the victims?"

"Nothin' that anyone can find, other than the fact that they both were a part of the school. One was a gym teacher, and the other was a student."

"Grudges held by an angry schoolgirl, maybe?" Sam asked, musing. Dean turned to Sam, a wolfish grin on his face.

"Oooo. Say 'Angry Schoolgirl' again. That's hot."

"BARF. You are disgusting," Natalie chimed in from the backseat.

"Blow chunks in this car and you're grounded for life."

"Keep talking about angry schoolgirls and I'll make sure to barf in the glove compartment."

"Could you two please focus? Because it sounds to me like we're on a wild goose chase here," Sam said loudly, overpowering their playful banter. Dean and Natalie sighed in tandem at Buzz Killington, and got back to discussing the case.

"Alright- try this one on for size. Police have questioned all the girls on campus. They all have alibis- sort of."

"What do you mean, 'sort of'?"

"I mean that there are a couple girls that say they can't remember where they were when the murders occurred."

"Like just drawing a blank lost hours, or like black out drunk lost hours?"

"They got nothing. From ten pm to two am, none of them can remember a damn thing. Same length of time that the surveillance cameras all crapped out."

"But you said they sort-of have alibis."

"Yeah. Other girls on their floors, roommates, all that- they vouch for the girls. Say they were with them the whole time. Police can't question them further, because they don't freaking know anything."

"Hours of memory loss- could be demon possession."

"And other demons covering for alibis."

"Or witches casting a forgetful spell."

"So yeah- that sounds like us."

"Yahtzee."

"Why didn't you lead off with that, Dean?"

"Because I like to watch you squirm."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

"Hell, if I was stuck in a prep school like that, I'd probably drink myself to black out every night just to forget I was there," Natalie said.

"Well, you're welcome for never putting you through that. Which reminds me. Did you finish drawing out those sigils I wanted you to practice?"

"Ah, crap, I forgot. Sorry. I'll do them now."

"You got plenty of time. Gonna be a long way to Massachusetts."

About an hour later, when she had finished the angel sigils, Natalie was on her phone, doing research on their current case.

"So the police are baffled- they can't find even a single lead to go on. There's just nothing," she reported, reading the article she had discovered.

"Well, it'll be good cover then, the FBI getting involved and all," Sam said.

"Wait- wasn't it was a gym teacher that bit it at the school?" Dean asked suddenly.

"Yeah."

"See if the job is still open. I could go in undercover." There was no mistaking the tone of glee in his voice when he said that, which made Natalie sit up straight in surprise.

"You'd willingly go into a school?" she asked, not quite sure she was really hearing what she thought she was hearing.

Dean nodded. "If it means I get a whistle, then hell yes." He turned to Sam, longing in his voice. "Remember, Sammy? Remember when I had the whistle?"

"Yes, Dean," Sam said, rolling his eyes to the heavens. Dean sighed, reminiscing.

"Ah, good times."

"Sorry to rain on your parade, Dad, but they've already filled the vacancy."

"Do a background check on the guy."

"Seriously? You want a whistle again that badly that you want me to dig into this guy's personal life to find something to get him fired for?"

"Damn straight."

Natalie sighed, but followed orders. "Well- I hate to tell you this, but he's clean. Not so much as a speeding ticket."

"Dammit. Guess we're stuck with the Fed Threads."

"On the plus side, I know what I'm getting you for your next birthday."

*SPN SPN SPN*

Once they arrived in the lovely little town in Massachusetts, they found a quiet little colonial style motel to check in to. The motel was nice enough, but it was the landscape around it that took the Winchesters' breaths away. The motel was surrounded by stunning October foliage. The red and orange leaves were still drooping from the large maple trees surrounding the land. The crisp, clean air snapped some red into Natalie's cheeks. She looked around the stunning sight in wonder.

"Wow- this is so cool," Natalie said. "Between the trees and the history in this town, this place seems really great."

"Yeah, while we're here, we should go see Fraggle Rock," Dean said. Natalie turned to him. His face was perfectly stoic, so she couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

"Fraggle Rock?"

"Yeah. Isn't that where the pilgrims landed and crap?"

"Please tell me you're joking," she pleaded. Dean just gave her a smarmy grin and grabbed the duffel bags out of the trunk. Natalie turned to Sam.

"When are you going to let me get that DNA test I keep asking for?" she asked, her joking smile twisting off to the side.

Sam just chuckled. "Trust me- you're his."

Once inside, they dumped their stuff on their respective beds. Natalie began by pulling out their laptops and making a work station on the wooden kitchen table. Sam and Dean donned their suits, getting ready to leave for the police station. And as usual, Natalie started badgering them to let her come along.

"Why can't I be like your...FBI intern or something?" Natalie asked, pressing them, trying to find something that would convince them to take her.

"One- because no one is going to believe you're old enough to be an intern," Sam said patiently.

"I could look older if you'd let me wear more makeup," Natalie grumbled. "Mascara and lip gloss will only take me so far."

"That's the idea," came her father's bark from the bathroom. She rolled her eyes.

"Two- you have a lot more practice to do before you're ready to handle an investigation," Sam continued as if neither of them had interrupted him.

Natalie sighed heavily and dropped onto the sofa. "Can we practice when you guys get back?"

Sam shrugged into his suit jacket. "We'll see," he said, giving the favorite non-committal phrase of parents everywhere. "Hurry up, Dean. What the hell is taking you so long?" Dean finally emerged from the bathroom, strutting like the cat that ate the canary. Sam knew instantly that Dean had been preening, seeing as they were about to head to an all girls' school.

"Dude- you do realize that most of the girls there are going to be jail bait?"

"Hey- Penthouse Forum said to always be prepared."

"Never mind. I don't wanna go anymore," Natalie said, pretending to throw up.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Fortunately for Sam and Dean, the police station was relatively close to the school. However, that was about the last fortunate thing that happened to them all day. Upon arriving at the station, they were immediately ushered into the sheriff's office after flashing their badges.

"I'm almost embarrassed to say it, but we've got absolutely nothing, gentlemen," said the overworked and exhausted Sheriff Macumber. He gestured for the boys to sit down, which they did. Sam noted the lines on the sheriff's tired face. It was clear this man was burning the candle at both ends. "I'm glad to see that the FBI is coming in to help."

That statement surprised Sam a bit. "I'm glad to hear that. Usually, people are wary when we show up."

"Well, those people are, to use the common phrase- idiots." The brothers smiled at each other- they liked this guy. "I've got two murders in my district, both unsolved. I want the families to be able to have some peace at night, knowing that whoever it was that killed their loved ones is behind bars."

"Well, we want that too, Sheriff," Dean said, leaning forward in his seat. "Tell me- is there any scrap of evidence that gives you any clue as to the murderer?"

"Even if it's something unusual, we'd like to know," Sam added. To their dismay, Macumber shook his head.

"The papers got it right- I've got nothing." He snorted derisively under his breath. "Damned press. Everything seems to be everybody's business around here. I had barely been able to notify the families when those news vultures had published an article online, describing everything in detail."

Sam nodded his head in sympathy. "There were no witnesses at the school? Nobody came forward?"

Macumber shook his head. "Not a one of them. We questioned the girls, but they're all backing each other up. They all come from money, too, so you can guess at the number of phone calls from every lawyer's office in Massachusetts we got, all telling us to leave these girls alone. Besides, they gave us nothing."

"Well, if it's alright with you, we're gonna say 'to hell with the lawyers' and question those girls again ourselves," Dean said in a matter-of-fact voice.

"Fine by me," the sheriff said. "I'll let my patrol cars know you're coming. I've got cops circling the campus round the clock, but they've not seen anything. I hope you two can get something out of those girls. I can't shake the feeling that one of them knows something, but won't come clean."

"We'll do our best to find out. Sheriff- before we go, can we ask you if any of the people you questioned mentioned any unusual activity on the nights of the murders?" Sam asked.

"No, they all said it was a quiet night, nothing out of the ordinary. Except the video interference, but I trust you gentlemen know about that already?"

The boys nodded in unison. "Yeah, we heard. Anything else weird, like cold spots, strange smells, anything like that?" Dean pressed. The sheriff seemed taken aback by the question, but slowly began to shake his head 'no'.

"Sorry, can't say that I heard anything like that. I'll review the transcripts of the interrogations, but I don't recall anything like cold spots coming up."

"Alright, thank you so much for your time, Sheriff."

*SPN SPN SPN*

The interrogation at school left them with even more nothing. As the girls were ushered into the small classroom they had been given for interrogations, Sam and Dean found themselves swimming in a sea of mindless teenage chatter coupled with having to fight a cell phone for attention. It felt to them like they were watching a montage of some terrible nineties D-lister movies.

"I already told the guys with the other shiny badges, I don't know anything."

"I would call my parents and report that you're harassing me, but they're on a trip to Aruba and they don't get good cell service."

"Any questions can be directed to my assistant." ("You're fifteen" -blatantly, from Dean). "I SAID, talk to my assistant."

"I just feel so bad about the Coach- I mean, obviously, because he died, but he had no fashion sense at all. I wonder what they buried him in. I hope it wasn't his own clothing."

"I was with the girls from my floor. I know I didn't leave the building at all, either night."

"Christy's in a better place now. It was good that she died. I'm sorry, but that's how I feel." ("And why do you say that?"-hopefully, from Sam). "Because she was a loser. All she ever did was hang out at the computer lab. She didn't even have an iPad of her own. What kind of life is that?"

"Look, like I told the other cops, all the girls on my floor and I were together. We were watching a movie that night. Believe me, I would have noticed if someone left. We were watching my favorite movie. No one is allowed to leave during my favorite movie."

"I'm sorry Officers, but Christy wasn't on my floor, so I really don't think I can answer any of your questions."

"Can I see your gun?"

"I really think the person who killed the coach killed the other girl, too." ("And what makes you think that?" -tiredly, from Dean) "Because that's what it said on the internet. And they can't print stuff on the internet if it isn't true."

"Okay, so you guys are under oath, right?" ("Uh- I guess so. Why?" -confusedly, from Sam) "Does this skirt make my butt look fat? You're under oath, you have to answer honestly."

Two mind numbing hours later, the brothers staggered back to the Impala. "Well, that was a fat lot of nothin'," grumbled Dean as they headed out to the car. He patted the hood of the Impala lovingly. "Baby, I sure am glad that you can't talk, sweetheart."

Sam just shook his head. "Man, I need a drink. That was painful." They headed to the nearest convenient store to grab a six pack. As they pulled into the parking lot, Dean spoke up again.

"What do you think? Stake the place out tonight? Do a little surveillance?" Sam looked at his brother like he had two heads.

"Dude, are you nuts?"

"What?"

"The sheriff said he's got people patrolling the grounds twenty four seven right now. Two creepy older dudes staking out an all girls' boarding school?"

"Hey! Watch who you're calling old!"

"The point is, that option is out. And Natalie checked- there's no job openings at the school. There's no way we can go undercover inside the school, which is really what we need right now."

"Well...there is one way..." Dean said, letting his words trail off.

Sam looked up at Dean, who was returning his gaze with his own conflicted one.

"Are you serious?"

"You and I both know it's our only option."

"And you're okay with it?"

"Hell no. But what other choice do we have?"

"So...I guess we need to go by the registrar's office then."

"Rock, Paper, Scissors on being the one to tell her."

*SPN SPN SPN*

An hour later, Sam and Dean stood before her. She sat on the couch, her hands folded on her stomach, listening to their proposal. Sam had explained, in great detail, how they were basically at a dead end, and this was the only option left to them. Dean expounded on the furthering of her hunter's education, and about how going undercover was a vital part of the whole job. They went through the speech they had rehearsed flawlessly, both giving gravitas to the other's point. From beginning to end, they laid out the plan. Natalie would go undercover as a student at the prep school. She would report into them every hour on the hour about what she could find and discover. It would be the first time they had let her go solo in the field. She was going to be the one to crack the case wide open. What could she possibly say?

"Nope," said Natalie.

"Look, if we had any other choice, Bug, you know we would have taken it."

"Hell no."

"You're the one who's always griping that we don't let you get your hands dirty. This is your chance."

"Fuck no."

"Watch your mouth."

"I'm sorry. Let me say it in Russian, then. Nyet."

"It's only until we solve this case, then we'll bust you out."

"Latin. Nihil."

"Natalie..."

"Pig Latin. Oh-nay."

"Alright, this is getting us nowhere," Dean growled. He looked at Sam. "You had your shot at explaining this to her. My turn."

"How was that MY shot?" Sam shouted at him, but Dean had already gripped Natalie under the arm and drug her off the couch. He was heading towards the door, ignoring his brother. Sam exclaimed in frustration the second the door slammed shut.

Out in the hallway of the Colonial style motel, Dean suddenly let go of his daughter's arm, and rounded on her, fixing her with The Eye. Natalie responded by rolling her own and crossing her arms. _Just like she used to when she was little,_ Dean thought. _Alright, kid, you wanna play it that way? Bring it._ He crossed his own arms, his face frozen with The Eye, and stood firm- same stance he would give her on the rare occasion that she would misbehave when she was younger. He knew he just needed her to get all of her tantrum out, which she immediately proceeded to do.

"Dad, come on. This is totally unfair," Natalie protested.

Dean didn't move.

"You can't just toss me into a school, even if it is for a case! They're almost two months into the school year already!"

Dean didn't move.

"What if something happens in there, and I'm not armed?! You know they're not just going to let me waltz in there with a .45!"

Dean didn't move. Natalie finally realized what he was doing, and she knew any further protestations on her part would be a waste of breath. In her mind, she hemmed and hawed for a nanosecond, then gave in. She dropped her crossed arms, defeated. She looked at the ground and mumbled, "Yes, sir. I'll go." She bit her lip as the anger and frustration inside her head yelled at her for giving in so easily. But she knew she didn't have any other choice. She would always obey her father, when push came to shove.

"Good," came the gruff reply. She didn't want to look up, but out of her periphery, she saw Dean drop his arms as well. "Now you wanna tell me what this is really all about?" Natalie's head snapped up in surprise. Hadn't she just told him? Dean shook his head, as if he could read her mind.

"Look. I know you, kiddo. You're itching to get out on the field, and the more dangerous the case, the better. So what is it about this one that's got you spooked? Why don't you want to do this?" Dean asked, not unkindly. She looked down at the ground for another moment, kicking the cement floor.

"I just...the one school experience I ever had...well, it was the part of my life that's sucked the most so far," Natalie finally got out. She didn't want to look at him, ashamed of how she felt. Dean took a deep breath, his head tilting backwards. Of course.

"How could I forget Schoolgate?" Dean said with a bit of a chuckle. The corner of Natalie's mouth turned up a bit at hearing the old name. Her first week of kindergarten had been such a disaster that they had all nicknamed it "Schoolgate".

"Don't get me wrong- spending all that time with Pops was great- I really wouldn't trade it for the world. But god- I missed you and Uncle Sam so much. I can still remember what it feels like- missing you guys so bad."

Dean was unable to speak for a moment. He knew exactly what she meant. That year away from her was right up there with his forty years in Hell. He and Sam had tried to get home as much as they could, but with their jobs, it just wasn't always possible. He made damn sure he was there for every special occasion, every holiday, and every possible moment he could be. But there was always a small part of him that died all over again when he pulled away from that little face watching him leave out of Bobby's living room window. Even if Crowley hadn't come after her at Bobby's, Dean knew he would have pulled her from school anyways. There was no way he would have survived another year without her. He was just eternally grateful that she had taken to road life with such alacrity. It made all of their lives easier, knowing how happy she was, and how she flourished with Sam and Dean. She had always wanted to be a Hunter, and Dean reassured himself that training her for what was out there was better than keeping her in the dark. If something ever happened to him or Sam, he was going to be damned if he was going to leave his little girl unable to take care of herself. Now here was her first chance at a solo job, and even though he hated it, he knew she could handle it. The reasons why she was balking finally made sense.

"Look, squirt. I know that year did a number on you. Hell, it did a number on me too. But this is different. First off, I ain't going anywhere. I'm going to be texting and calling you so much you'll wish that I would just up and leave. Got it?" Natalie just swallowed hard and nodded. Dean exhaled, satisfied that she knew he wasn't going to leave her. "Alright, good. Second, this is just temporary. You're not being condemned to a year or even a semester. The second we solve this thing, we're busting you out." He took another pause, waiting for her to respond, but she simply nodded her head. Dean pursed his lips, wishing he could elicit more of an answer from her, but he needed to keep making his case. "Now, you always say that you want to be a Hunter. Why?"

"Because I want to save people, just like you and Uncle Sam do," she said, lifting up her head. He was encouraged by the passionate fire in her eyes when she said that.

"Exactly. And here's your shot. Kid, you're smart. You know we've got no other option except to send you in. Hell, if I could send your uncle in in drag, I'd do it."

"He'd look good in a sweetheart neckline."

"Point is, we need you. I don't like this anymore than you do, but something's in there, and we have to figure it out before it offs someone else."

Natalie sighed and stepped forward towards him, wrapping her arms around his stomach. He pulled her in, and rested his chin on top of her head. "I know," she said. "You're right. It's just..." She trailed off, not finishing her sentence.

"Just what?" Dean said, leaning back trying to get a look at her face.

"Why couldn't it have been like a haunted psycho ward, or a slaughterhouse with a vengeful spirit, huh? Why'd it have to be SCHOOL?" she whimpered. Dean snorted a laugh, and pulled her back in.

"Oh," he said, closing his eyes, really hating the next part of the news he needed to deliver to her. "I forgot to tell you..."

"What," she moaned, thinking that this couldn't get any worse.

"They have a very strict dress code. Your uniform is in the back of the Impala."

The thought provoking and imaginative string of expletives that Natalie let out in that moment would have made a nun faint.


	52. Perks of Being Popular Part 2

**Good Morning Beautiful One! Happy Memorial Day weekend!**

 **This one is in honor of all those that we celebrate this weekend. Thank you for all your dedication and sacrifice in keeping us safe, so a weirdo like me can sit and write stories. I thank you** **with all my heart.**

 **Thank you all for the reviews and for the follows and everything! You're the awesomest ever. Special shoutout to the amazing Jenmm31 for notes and suggestions on this chapter! If you're not following her 1. Why the hell not?! 2. She's cooking up something new for you! Follow her!**

 **Read, Review, Enjoy!**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is 16. This is part 2 of a three part story. If you haven't already, please go back and read the previous chapter, otherwise this ain't gonna make a lick of sense. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

Part 2

The next morning, Dean pulled the Impala right up to the front of the school. Natalie sat, completely stoic in the front seat, unwilling to open the door. She wasn't entirely ready- not just yet. They had been over and over the plan meticulously, from the moment she had finished her tantrum about the school uniforms until they had all finally gotten to sleep yesterday. She had packed her duffle bag that morning before either Sam or Dean had been awake, so she would be ready. She looked around the beautiful campus now, but she didn't see the spectacular autumn foliage or the rustic architecture of Colonial America. All she saw was a prison. A prison she had to go into in order to do her job. She remembered the stories of when her father and uncle got themselves arrested for a case and spent a good week in the slammer- this didn't feel any different to her.

"Alright. Keep your phone on you at all times. In class, going out to eat, whatever. I need to be able to reach you, no matter what," Dean said for the umpteenth time. _And to know where you are,_ he thought worriedly to himself, thinking of the GPS tracker on her phone. It wasn't that he didn't trust her- far from it. It was that she wouldn't be within his eyesight while there was a dangerous, unknown monster out there. But he didn't want to say that- he had to put on the brave game face, just like she was doing. He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she could hold her own out there.

"Yes, sir," she answered woodenly, not looking at him. She was watching a pair of particularly primped girls walk across campus, hiding their mouths behind their hands, whispering to each other and giggling. She fought the urge to throw open the Impala door and make a run for it. She picked at the collar of the cotton maroon polo she was wearing, emblazoned with the school's logo. She felt as if the shirt and khakis were a straight jacket specifically designed to make it impossible for her to breathe. She wasn't even allowed to wear her boots, which she had expressed all her thoughts and feelings on in no uncertain terms. The white sneakers seemed to scream at her from her feet- they were too clean, too easy for a predator to see. As soon as the case was over, she was salting and burning them. Along with the damned uniform.

"Okay. So...that's it then. Call me or text me every hour on the hour," Dean said, fidgeting a bit himself. Natalie knew exactly what this particular fidgeting was about. Most parents would be nervous, or weepy, or anxious on their kid's first day of school. She knew that Dean was none of these things. Sure, he was a little nervous, but he had a lot more confidence in her than she had in herself, and he knew she could handle this. She turned to him, her smile twisting over the side.

"Go ahead," she said resignedly.

"What?" he replied innocently.

"I know you want to razz me about this whole crapfest being my 'first day at school'. So go ahead," she said with a smirk.

"No, I know how difficult this is for you. I'm not going to say anything," Dean said pompously. But Natalie knew her father too well. She could see his jaw clenched together, and his white knuckles on the steering wheel. He was _dying_ to make some smart ass remark about her first day at school.

"Dad. Just...out with it," she said, her voice a mix of amusement and annoyance. Dean couldn't hold it in anymore, especially when she had just given him permission. His words came out in a blur, like they had been building up behind the dam of trying to hold himself back for his daughter's sake.

"Be nice to the other kids don't eat dirt keep your shoes clean don't push anyone on the playground and no means no," Dean blurted out in one continuous sentence, then exhaled loudly. He chuckled to himself once he caught his breath. "Thanks, kid. Didn't know how much longer I was going to be able to keep that in," he said, playfully pushing her shoulder.

"Well, I didn't want you to burst a blood vessel," she said, turning her attention back towards the campus. Without realizing she did it, she let out a small sigh. Dean heard a world of issues in that tiny exhalation. He knew she felt like a dead man walking, but she was also a little nervous. This was her first time solo on the field- with permission- and she was essentially alone. Dean was never going to be more than two blocks away, but that two blocks felt like an ocean when you were walking into a potentially dangerous situation. Dean knew she was more prepared than she realized- she always was so hard on herself that she couldn't clearly see how exceptional she was. The real Natalie- what Dean knew to be true about her even when she couldn't see it herself- was ready. It was the only way Dean would have let her go.

He punched her on the arm again, gently. "Look. Keep your head in the game in there. You're gonna be fine. In a couple days, you'll never have to see these cheerleaders again. And you'll have saved lives. You can't forget that, kiddo," he said.

She turned her attention back to him. "I know. That's the only reason I'm doing this." She leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Hey," she said, her real smile threatening to break through.

"I know," Dean replied, grinning at her. "You too."

"I know," she said, with her Han Solo worthy shrug. Dean shook his head and chuckled as she climbed out of the car. She shut the front door, and opened the back one to retrieve her duffle bag. Before she could manage to shut the door however, Dean yelled out in a very loud voice.

"Make good choices, honey!" A couple girls nearby stopped and looked at her. She slammed the door shut, smiled at the girls, and turned back around to the car under the pretext of waving goodbye. She fluttered her fingers at Dean's grinning face a few moments before dropping her hand in front of her so the other girls couldn't see and flipping him the bird. She saw him roar with laughter as he peeled away from the parking lot. She took a deep breath, and turned towards her new prison...um, home.

*SPN SPN SPN*

An hour later, after meeting with the front office, getting assigned to a dorm room, then being escorted to her first class by the secretary (which was beyond humiliating), Natalie found herself seated in an eleventh grade level history class. The teacher, Mr. Longstreet, had made her introduce herself to the class, say where she was from, the whole nine yards. After going through a completely made up story ("Sydney Bonham from Denver, Colorado"), Natalie pulled out her notebook and flipped to the back of it. The front part of it was full of research and ancient symbols, and she wasn't eager to get herself labeled as "that Goth kid with satanic symbols in her notebook" on the first day. Besides, she had to try to find the crowd that was responsible for these murders, not take a history lesson. She found herself quietly looking around the room at her new classmates, surreptitiously checking for supernatural signs. She didn't honestly expect to find black eyes or hex bags in the classroom; she was just keeping herself open and aware.

"Miss Bonham?" Mr. Longstreet said, a bit loudly. Natalie started, and look right at him. _Crap, crap, crap. Was I seriously just zoning out in my first damn class?!_ she thought angrily to herself. She slipped into the facade of a good student, sitting up straight, an eager look on her face.

"Yes, sir?" she said innocently.

"I was just wondering if you would care to elaborate on the subject," Mr. Longstreet said pleasantly. Natalie felt her face going bright red as every eye in the room turned towards her. It didn't sound from his phrasing like she had missed a question- he was just asking her thoughts. Trouble was, she hadn't been paying attention long enough to figure out what the freaking subject was. _Okay- I can figure this out,_ Natalie thought in a rush. Dean had taught her how to observe her surroundings, so she quickly turned her head and put a thoughtful look on her face like she was considering the question, when in reality she was gazing at the girl seated next to her's notes. In bright purple ink, the top of the girl's page was labeled "Alexander Hamilton". She took a leap and prayed.

"I think that Hamilton was truly one of the greatest game changers when it came to founding our country's government, especially the financial system. It's a shame that his words, which he used so eloquently to help establish our nation, were ultimately his own undoing," she answered quickly, hoping to at least sound intelligent. Her brain almost fainted with relief when Mr. Longstreet smiled at her, clasping his hands together.

"I couldn't have put it better myself. Nicely done," he said indulgently. He turned to the white dry-erase board at the front of the class and continued his lecture. Natalie had to restrain herself from wiping the flop sweat off of her forehead.

 _Thank God,_ she thought to herself. _And thank you Uncle Sam for giving a damn about US history._

*SPN SPN SPN*

After the class ended, which Natalie actually enjoyed more than she thought she would, she was in the hallway, pulling out her new schedule with one hand and her phone with the other. Sure enough, she had a text waiting from Dean.

 _*you okay?*_ it read. She quickly typed back. * _fine. made it through first class. you're lucky I'm a genius*._ Just as she was hitting "send", one of the girls in her history class walked up to her.

"That was a pretty great answer you pulled out of your ass back there," the girl said by way of an introduction. Natalie's temper flared instantly, but she tried to clamp it down. Maybe this was just how these rich bitches talked.

"Yeah, well, when you've got your own private tutor who follows your family around, it helps," she responded without missing a beat. Natalie was surprised at herself for giving that answer. Well, technically it was true- Sam was with her at all times, usually. The girl considered Natalie for a moment, then gave a laugh that sounded somewhere between a cough and a high-pitched hiccup. Natalie had to once again quickly school her features into not looking at the girl like she was a nut job. The girl flexed her long fingers and checked out her french manicure, but continued to address Natalie.

"I like you, new girl. Consider yourself lucky. Not everyone gets the Ainsley stamp of approval- especially on their first day," the girl said haughtily.

What Natalie wanted to say was _Like I actually give a rat's ass what you think of me._ But what she actually said was, "Fantastic. I'm Sydney."

"Ainsley. It's nice to meet me, I know. You don't have to answer. That was rhetorical," Ainsley said, with a little head tilt at the word rhetorical, as if to say, _yeah, I totally know what rhetorical means._ Natalie ground her back teeth together at the same time she gave Ainsley a big smile, all while stabbing Ainsley in her mind.

"Awesome," she said, hating how fake her own voice sounded. "Well, I'm supposed to be heading to..." she quickly consulted her schedule. "...an English class right now." She prayed that Ainsley wasn't heading there as well.

"Oh, Miss Princeton? That class?"

"Um..." _Dammit._ "Yeah."

"Fantastic. Me too. Let's go."

*SPN SPN SPN*

The rest of Natalie's morning wasn't nearly as much fun as her history class. The subsequent English class was dull as dishwater. Natalie actually got so bored, she started counting the words on the teacher's power point presentation and calculating the average number of words per page. Miss Princeton told them that they would each need to turn in a three page report on the Greek tragedy they were discussing. Natalie had already done a report on Eurydice, the subject of the class, for Sam a couple years ago- she'd just have him forward her the paper. It wasn't cheating- technically, she DID write it. And hers was eight pages long. She had a class in Economics after that, and the only good thing there was that Ainsley wasn't in it. As the teacher droned on, not apparently caring whether the class was grasping the subject matter or not, Natalie was once again trying to observe her classmates. None of them seemed like anything other than spoiled rich girls. She made a mental note to go over her research again at lunch, cross checking it with the interviews the girls gave, and see if she couldn't start connecting any dots. She pulled out her wrinkled schedule, and was relieved to see that lunch was next.

As soon as the bell rang, Natalie gathered up her crap, shoving it quickly into her worn out backpack, and followed the masses to the lunch room. However, once again, fortune was not on her side. As she entered the upscale cafeteria, she heard an annoyingly familiar voice.

"Hey, Sydney! Over here!" Ainsley called. Natalie heaved a sigh, rolled her eyes, and then put her preppy game face on before turning towards the voice. She walked towards the table where Ainsley was sitting with four other girls. "Hey- move over," Ainsley commanded the shortest girl, who quickly scooted to do her bidding. "Everybody- this is the new girl I was telling you about. Her name is Sydney."

"Wow, Ainsley, you remembered someone's name?" said a girl with a tight, high ponytail wrapped with a perfect large fluffy bow. She looked like she had just come from cheerleading practice.

"I know, right?" Ainsley said, completely missing the sarcasm. She indicated that Natalie should sit in the seat the short girl just vacated. Natalie smiled her thanks at the girl who moved, and sat down carefully. This was like her worst nightmare coming to life right in front of her. _It's for the job, it's for the job, it's for the job,_ she thought to herself. She put on a completely fake smile- the one she usually used on cases.

"Hey- my name's Sydney," Natalie said, looking around the table, not really knowing what else to say past that.

"Syd, this is everybody," Ainsley said. Natalie wrinkled her nose- even though it was a fake name, she already didn't like the shortening of it. It reminded her of that weird sloth thing from the movie Ice Age. But she wasn't about to argue- she was going into the belly of the beast. A high school rich girls' inner circle.

Ainsley gestured around the table as she introduced everyone. "That's Lindsey-" she gestured to the girl who had vacated her seat for Natalie, "that's Hayden-" a girl with shockingly beautiful violet eyes, "Kirsten-" the girl with the perfect ponytail who made the joke about Ainsley remembering a name, "and that's Nevaeh."

"Ne-vay-uh?" Natalie asked, unable to stop herself. She had never heard that name before. The girl nodded proudly.

"Yes. It's 'Heaven' spelled backwards," Nevaeh said with a self-satisfied smirk.

"Ah. That's...creative." When the girl looked at Natalie, confused by her response, she quickly amended it. "It's nice."

"Thanks! So you're from Denver, huh?"

"Uh, yup. Yeah. Born and raised."

"That's cool. My family owns a winter home in Denver," Nevaeh said as a smartly dressed young man pushing a cart came around and started delivering salads to the girls. Natalie's eyebrows shot up into her hairline- they had LUNCH waiters? What the hell? She stared just a little too long at the man, which made Ainsley elbow her.

"He's cute, right?" Ainsley whispered to Natalie. Natalie just tried to giggle a bit, feeling completely ridiculous, but grateful that Ainsley had provided her with an "out" of the situation.

"Totally," Natalie whispered back in what she hoped was a girly voice but mostly feeling like an idiot. "So," she said in a louder voice, "So what do you all do around here for fun?"

"Well, we do movie nights twice a week- Hayden always picks the movies," the girl who moved chairs- Lindsey- said, in a quiet, breathless voice. She was looking at Hayden with a glance akin to hero worship.

"Wow. So Hayden- I take it you're really in to movies, then?" Natalie said, looking at the girl with the beautiful purple eyes.

Hayden laughed, a little fluttery wisp of mirth. The rest of the girls joined her. Natalie was wondering what she could have possibly said to make them laugh. She looked around the group warily, when Kirsten came to her aid.

"Hayden's dad is a really big hot shot movie producer. He's in the know about EVERYTHING going on in Hollywood right now," she answered in a voice that was actually normal- not affected or giggly like the others. Natalie started to thank her lucky stars that there seemed to be at least one sane person in the bunch.

"Wow- so your dad works with a lot of celebrities and stuff?" Natalie asked, picking up her fork as the rest of the girls started in on their salads.

Hayden, who hadn't actually spoken up till that point, daintily wiped her lips with the linen napkin before answering. "Daddy's very involved in the movie industry," she said in a satiny, gentle voice. The combination of the soporific voice and the violet eyes was almost unnerving, Natalie thought to herself. She felt drawn in by Hayden's presence, wanting to hear more and know more about what the girl was going to say.

"Hayden knows lots of famous people, but she refuses to let me meet any of them!" Ainsley said, pouting. Hayden simply smiled at her benevolently.

"It's not always the best idea to flaunt one's status, Ainsley," Hayden said quietly, but with a sense of power and importance. Natalie's eyes narrowed- something seemed off about this girl. She made a mental note to check in with Hayden later. Hayden turned to Nevaeh, and changed the subject. "Were you able to get that paper completed for Mr. Hutchison's class?"

Nevaeh swallowed a bite of salad, and suddenly Natalie remembered she was supposed to be eating. She took a forkful of salad, praying that it was going to be palatable. However, her eyes widened with surprise as the flavors and salad ingredients combined on her tongue- it was delicious. She quickly reminded herself of the proper etiquette lessons that Sam had taught her to keep from shoveling the entire tasty concoction into her mouth in one. She tried to focus on the conversation at hand. Nevaeh was making a huffing noise.

"Just barely. I printed it out like twenty minutes before I was supposed to hand it in. I mean, I know it's good, but I was just cutting it close this time," she said, poking at her salad, looking for croutons.

"Hayden, I thought your paper was awesome," Lindsey said in a squeaky little voice. She turned to the rest of the girls, the pride gleaming in her eyes. "I proof read it for her," she announced, looking around the little group as if she was hoping that the declaration would make her more likable.

"Good job, Lindsey," Kirsten said patiently. Lindsey lit up like a puppy that was just told she was a good dog, and dug into her salad. Natalie looked at Kirsten, who gave her a subtle eye roll that said _This happens all the time._ Ainsley, however, decided that it needed to be said out loud.

"Do you think you could get your nose out of someone's ass for like, two seconds, Linds? 'Kaythanksbye," she said, a touch of nastiness in her voice. Hayden looked over at Ainsley impassively.

"Lindsey really did me a favor, Ainsley," she said in that unnervingly calm voice of hers. It actually made Ainsley squirm a bit, hearing those words directed at her. Hayden turned to Lindsey with a gentle look in her eye. She placed one small, perfectly manicured hand on Lindsey's hand, resting on the table, her gold bangle bracelets clinking together as she moved her wrist. "She's my best friend," Hayden said warmly, squeezing Lindsey's hand. Lindsey blushed even redder, squeezed Hayden's hand back, and got back to eating her salad. Hayden returned her gaze to Ainsley, who immediately began backtracking.

"Well, you know I was just teasing," she finally muttered. "Sorry, Lindsey." Lindsey just nodded, but didn't look up. Apparently, this was a typical thing that happened here. Natalie dug into her own salad again, wondering if this was just the norm with these girls, or something more. The rest of the quickly got off that topic and on to a new one- boys.

 _Oh joy,_ thought Natalie.

*SPN SPN SPN *

Three days passed, and the only thing that Natalie learned for sure was Ainsley's opinion of every girl in the school. Which one had too much money, which one had a nose job, which one was rumored to smoke- all the claptrap that spilled out of Ainsley's mouth was wearing her down. She was doing fine in her classes, particularly enjoying the history class, but found the rest of them sort of boring. The other night, she thought she might get a break through on the case when she was invited to one of Hayden's movie nights. She still thought that Hayden was just a bit too off. Apparently, it was a very exclusive invite- this movie night. The other girls from the lunch table were there as well, but that was it. Kirsten had come in late, all sweaty from volleyball practice, but her makeup was still flawless. Natalie wondered what in the hell she was using, and if it would hold up under a werewolf attack. Nevaeh, as it turned out, was actually a bookworm. She and Natalie had spent one night chatting about the nuances of "Memoirs of a Geisha", and Natalie was thrilled that this girl, who originally appeared as vapid as the rest, was capable of carrying on an intellectual conversation that even Sam would have enjoyed. Lindsey had rushed around, making sure everyone's Coke Zeros were filled, and that the 100 calorie snack packs were within reach, as Ainsley lamented the fact that OPI still hadn't made a nail polish that matched her eyes, no matter how many letters she had written. Once the movie started, however, you could have heard a pin drop. Hayden would occasionally offer a commentary on the action or the actor, and everyone was hanging on her every word, desperate to be in the "Hollywood Know". Hayden certainly hadn't been lying- some of the tidbits she offered up were things that only an insider would know. But there was no other indication that anything was off about the girl. Other than that, Natalie's three days at the school so far were rather uneventful.

She was climbing the freaking walls.

She had taken to wandering at night, talking to Dean or Sam via cell phone. She made sure to stay along the lit paths of the campus, and keep her eyes peeled for any suspicious activity. She was in the middle of one of her nighttime strolls while on the phone with her father.

"I got my English paper back today, Dad."

"How did you do?"

"You mean as opposed to how Uncle Sam grades?" she said with a snicker, her eyes wandering the grounds, always on alert for any movement or suspicious activity.

"Yeah. He's going too easy on you, isn't he?" Natalie could hear the smile and teasing in Dean's voice.

"No way. He gave it a B minus the first time, and made me redo it. Miss Princeton gave it an A, and used one of my passages as an example in class."

"Well, you're welcome for all the good DNA that gave you your brains."

"Yeah. Uncle Sam had nothing to do with it, at all."

"See? I knew you were smart."

Natalie giggled and sighed. On the other end of the phone, Dean could hear the frustration in his daughter's voice.

"Still got nothing on the case, huh?"

"Gee, how could you tell?" Natalie said bitterly.

"What about that Hayden girl you were telling me about? Anything there?"

"Nope. I searched her room when she was in a Calculus class. Nothing."

"You checked for hex bags, sigils, charms, all that crap?"

"Yes, sir. She was clean."

"Doesn't mean she's not still our target. Keep your eyes peeled."

"I will."

"That Ashley girl still driving you crazy?"

"It's Ainsley, and yes. Today, she was actually taking a Buzzfeed quiz in class to determine if she was more like Angelina or like Jennifer."

"What's Buzzfeed?"

"It's...never mind. She was just blatantly playing on her phone in class, and it was like the teacher didn't give a damn."

"Is she getting good grades? Maybe she's the one manipulating people, if she's not even paying attention in class."

"Good call. I'll check her room out tomorrow." Just then, Natalie noticed a bizarre movement at the door of one of the far buildings. "Hold on, Dad," she said quietly into the phone, straining her eyes to see. She saw a small figure pull open the heavy wooden door and make her way inside. Natalie had never seen anyone else walking around the campus at this time of night. "Dad, I just saw someone sneak into another building. I'm going to follow them."

"Stay low, stay quiet, call me as soon as you're done."

"Yes, sir." Dean hung up instantly without saying anything else. Natalie knew it was because he didn't want to distract her. She quietly slipped into the building herself, making sure to stay low and quiet, just like her father had instructed her to do. She reached her hand down, pulling a silver throwing knife out from her sock. She gritted her teeth as the blade left a tiny cut on her ankle. She HATED these damn shoes. They couldn't hold a knife properly worth a damn. Still longing for her hunting boots, she quietly crept down the hallway. She noticed the door to her English teacher's office was partially open. After another quick look down the hallway, she realized that no other door was open. Silent as a ghost, Natalie made her way towards the door. As she got closer, she could hear murmured voices, but she couldn't make out what they were saying. Straining to hear, she got closer to the partially open door. She couldn't fully see into the room, but she did see Miss Princeton, standing against the desk. She seemed to be arguing with someone.

"I'm sorry, but that's the final grade. I can't help it if..." The teacher broke off suddenly. Natalie heard a gentle clinking sound, but she couldn't place it. "Wait- what are you doing?!" Miss Princeton suddenly exclaimed. Natalie gripped her knife even tighter. Her mind ran through the thousand scenarios that could be playing out. She quickly tucked her other hand into her pocket. Sure enough, there was the container of salt and the small vial of holy water. Never leave home without it.

 _Alright, Winchester. If it's got black eyes, holy water. If it's transparent, salt. If it's got fangs or fur, the silver. You know what's coming. Be alert._

Natalie watched as the teacher seemed to freeze, staring at whatever she was seeing. Suddenly, a small hand extended towards the teacher's face. Natalie couldn't see who the hand belonged to, but she could see blood dripping from each finger tip. _Blood. May be a vampire._ Just as she was about to burst into the room, the hand touched the teacher's surprised forehead. It gently ran its fingers down, almost as if it was caressing her face, leaving five red streaks of blood. Instead of wiping the blood off, though, Miss Princeton's head was thrown back violently, as if she had taken a sudden breath. Natalie watched as the blood inexplicably soaked into the teacher's face. There was no indication that it had ever been there. Natalie's jaw dropped. As she watched, stunned, trying to figure out how the blood dissolved into Miss Princeton's face, she noticed something. The teacher's eyes began to glow- purple.

 _Well,_ Natalie thought faintly. _That's new._


	53. Perks of Being Popular Part 3

**Good Morning! Did you know you're fantastic? Because you are.**

 **Here's part 3 of Perks! Thank you to all of you who had read and reviewed- thank you especially to all my new follows and favorites. Hugs to all of you!**

 **So the best beta (and awesomest person) in the world, Jenmm31 just published again last night! If you haven't already, go show her some love and appreciation by checking out her stories. Y'all, they're GOOD. Go- go check them out!**

 **Still taking requests- hit me up! 3**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is 16. This is the 3rd part of a 3 part story. If you haven't already, go back and read the last two chapters, otherwise this ain't gonna make a lick of sense. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

 **Part 3**

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and began the trek around the motel room for the fifth time since his phone had rung. "Okay. Say it one more time."

On the other end of the line, he heard his daughter give an angry huff at having to repeat herself yet again. "Dad. The blood. Soaked into. Her face."

"Are you sure?"

"Well, seeing as how there was no trace of blood anywhere after it happened and I watched it first hand, yeah, pretty sure."

Dean rolled his eyes at the sarcasm. "Can the lip, little girl. I've just never heard of anything like that before."

"I know. Like- I don't even know what to BEGIN to search for."

"And her eyes turned a purple color, you said?"

"Yes. There was barely any light on in the room- just a desk lamp, regular bulb. No chance I was catching a reflection of something else."

"Did they light up, or go solid, like demon eyes?"

"There was definitely a glow behind them. Looked like that freaky guy from Ghostbusters Two- the original- except in purple."

Dean shook his head, and looked over at Sam. "Well, Sam's working on it. Hold on." He put his hand over the speaker on his cell. "Dude- you got anything?" he asked his brother.

Sam had been frantically typing, cross referencing, and Googling for all he was worth since getting details from Natalie. He ran his hands through his long hair; an angry, frustrated gesture.

"I got dick on this," Sam growled. He scrubbed his hands up and down his face, desperately trying to think. Trying to do research without Natalie right next to him was almost foreign to him anymore. Dean had been pumping her for any and all possible details that she could come up with, but they were going in circles. As if she was reading his mind through the phone, Natalie suddenly spoke up. Dean put the phone back up to his ear.

"Hey Dad, can you put Uncle Sam on?"

"Yeah. Sit tight a second." Dean walked over to his brother and handed him the phone. "Wants to talk to you," he said by way of an explanation. Sam took the phone and pressed it to his ear.

"Hey Bug," he said in a tight voice. To his surprise, he heard her chuckle on the other end. "What?" he said, a bit defensively.

"You sound just as frustrated as I am that I'm not there with you," she commented. Sam could hear a real smile in her voice, and his heart warmed a bit to know that she was missing him just as much as he was missing her. He snorted a half-laugh.

"Guess I've gotten rusty solo," he admitted.

"Nah, I just help you rule out the crap. You do fine on your own." Sam couldn't help but smile at Natalie's attempt to make him feel better about being an epic fail. He took a deep breath, and started from the top.

"Okay. So I've researched every blood ritual thing I can find, and I've got nothing."

"So maybe it's not a blood ritual," Natalie said quietly, her brain finally getting a jump start from talking the situation out instead of reciting details.

"You said that there was blood on your teacher's face."

"Yeah but- maybe there's something IN the blood. You know? Like maybe it's not a blood ritual because it's not a ritual- just blood." Sam took two extra seconds to puzzle out her words, and then suddenly began typing. He wedged the phone between his ear and his shoulder, his fingers flying over the keyboard.

"That's a good theory. Hang on," he muttered. He looked up at his brother watching him. Dean silently spread his hands as if to say _Well?_ Sam parroted to him Natalie's theory. "Maybe there's something in the blood- like a toxin or something."

"Like metachlorians?" Dean said, perking up and looking at his brother excitedly. Sam rolled his eyes.

"Unless her teacher suddenly starts light saber fighting, I'm pretty sure we can rule out the Jedi DNA that gives you the Force," Sam mumbled sarcastically. Dean shrugged. It had been worth a shot.

"So some sort of agent in the blood," Dean mused, running his hand across his unshaven jaw. "It causes the blood to get sucked into the chick's face. Something in the blood-"

"-absorbed into another person-"

"-does...what?"

Sam shook his head, looking confused. "I don't know. Maybe-"

"-mind control. That person's under the will of the person who's blood it is," Natalie, who could hear their voices, finished the sentence on the other end of the phone. "Think about it. The girls were losing chunks of memory right around the time that the murders happened. When that happens with a demon, it's because the demon's in control- the person doesn't always remember being possessed or anything that happened."

"So possible demonic possession then?"

Dean shook his head. "Naw- those sons of bitches just shotgun themselves down people's throats. They don't need blood."

"Maybe we're dealing with something we've never come up against here," Natalie said quietly. The boys looked at each other and exhaled in tandem, realizing that she was probably right. This was weird. Dean shook his head, then made his way over to the end table where John Winchester's journal laid open. He grabbed it and began thumbing through it. Sam kept feverishly typing. On the other end of the phone, Natalie was patiently waiting, while walking back to her dorm room. She was still on high alert, looking around her at the nighttime campus. She took the moment to rethink through the last couple hours, desperate for any details she may have missed.

After Miss Princeton's eyes glowed purple, there had been no further sound from the room. Natalie had expected to hear screaming, the sound of a body hitting the floor, even some footsteps, but there was just- nothing. After waiting for a good five minutes in the deafening silence, not even daring to move, Natalie had crept along the floor towards the entrance of the door, slowly peeking her head around to see what the hell was happening. To her immense surprise, Miss Princeton was seated at her desk, feverishly writing. She didn't look bloody, harmed, or even inconvenienced. From her low vantage point near the floor, Natalie had scanned the rest of the classroom. It was empty. The open window by Miss Princeton's desk was the clue to how the -killer? psycho? blood donor? - escaped. She had done an on-foot scan of the entire building and the surrounding grounds, but found nothing else. Nothing else happened except Miss Princeton scratching out some things in her notebook and shuffling through more papers. After about two hours, Natalie heard Miss Princeton scoot her chair back. Natalie had quickly flattened herself to the wall next to the door, having no time to find a better hiding spot, but it didn't matter. The teacher had simply walked out the door and down the hallway, never even giving a backwards glance. Natalie had stealthily followed her from a distance until she had gotten in her car and driven off. The second she was in the clear, Natalie had whipped out her phone and called her father.

"Hang on," Dean said suddenly to Sam, looking up from their father's journal. "Think I got a bite." He made his way over to the table, holding his finger in place on a word scribbled in ink on the page. "Here- type in 'phaeren'." Dean quickly spelled the bizarre word out for his brother. As the search engine was loading, Sam looked up at Dean.

"What does the journal say?"

"What- Grandpa's journal? You found something in there?" Natalie's voice piped up suddenly from the phone. Sam almost dropped the cell in surprise- he had forgotten that she was still waiting for them on the other end of the line; he had been so wrapped up in typing.

"Hey- uh, yeah Bug. Hang on. I'm going to put you on speaker." Sam set the phone down on the table and pushed the speaker button. "Can you still hear me?" he asked, wanting to make sure Natalie was still there.

"Loud and clear."

"I didn't really find anything- there's a question mark next to the word."

"How do you know it has anything to do with us then?" Natalie asked.

"Dad wrote a couple bullet points underneath the word- one of which is blood."

"Well, hell, it's worth a shot." Just then, the search engine yielded its results. Sam quickly clicked on the first link. His mouth dropped open.

"Son of a bitch," he whispered.

"What?" Natalie said, not being able to see what had caused him to exclaim like that. Dean stepped behind his brother, reading over his shoulder.

"Fuck me," Dean's angry exclamation echoed Sam's whisper in surprise.

"Anyone wanna fill me in here?!" Natalie yelled into the phone.

Sam shook his head, once again, caught off guard. "Yeah- yes. Sorry." Sam scrolled back to the top of the page and began to read. "A Phaeren is a mythological creature, said to be the descendants of Sirens...and Roman Royalty."

"Say what now?" his surprised niece said.

"Legend has it that in Roman times, a Siren fell in love with a Roman Royal, being attracted to his power. He, in turn, was drawn to her beauty and of course, her siren's call. Apparently, they got a little frisky one night, and thus was born the Phaeren."

"It's the freaking love child of The Little Mermaid and Julius Caesar?" Dean said, raising an eyebrow.

Sam just tilted his head to the side, agreeing. "Something like that. Phaerens are attracted to people who are thought to be powerful-"

"In their day, a Roman Royal was akin to a god," Natalie interrupted, her brain whirling at ninety miles a minute.

"Exactly. Apparently, that trait of being attracted to humans in power carried over from the mother."

"What does it say about the blood of a phaeren?" Natalie asked in a rush. Sam grimaced and read to Natalie what made him swear in the first place.

"Says here that a phaeren's blood is powerful- powerful enough to rule anyone."

Dean snapped his fingers. "That's gotta be a trait carried over from the father. Royal bloodlines, and wasn't Rome one of the most vicious armies in all history or something? They were born rulers." Sam slowly turned to Dean, surprise and admiration in his eyes at the historical fact that Dean had just spouted. Dean shifted uncomfortably. "What? I hear you two talking about all your school crap. I'm not deaf, you know."

Sam just bobbed his eyebrows once more in surprise, and then turned back to the website. He found what he was looking for, and pounded his fist on the table excitedly. "Get this- Phaerens use their blood to rule others- to make them do their bidding. I'm guessing that it's a Phaeren controlling your teacher right now."

"Awesome. My English teacher is a marionette for a mythological Roman creature," Natalie shrugged. "Sounds about right."

"Hang on- so their blood controls their victims. That's not what a siren does," Dean said, not fully understanding. Sam twisted his hands away from the keyboard in an _I don't really know_ gesture.

"Well- Sirens use their song to control humans. My guess is whatever was in the Roman guy's baby juice genetically flipped that trait, making the Siren's control come from the blood of its offspring," Sam ventured to guess.

"Fantastic. We have a mermaid/emperor hybrid with a penchance for wiping blood on people's faces and controlling their brains. Awesome," Dean said, shaking his head. He held up a hand. "Before, when all those girls said they couldn't remember anything- which I'm willing to bet was the Phaeren taking control of their asses- there were deaths. If this thing wants to kill, why isn't that chick dead?" he asked. Sam shrugged, having no clue.

"Don't know. But the website says they're obsessed with power- and with sucking the essences out of humans they consider powerful."

"What the hell?!"

"Yeah. Says here that they suck the essence out of the powerful, and that sustains them."

"Does it say anything about their appearances? Like, are there any traits that we should look out for?" Natalie asked, wanting to figure out who exactly the Phaeren was before it took control of someone else. Sam opened a tab entitled "Description". He quickly scanned the page.

"Okay, here we go. It says they appear as humans and that nothing directly distinguishes them from us."

"That'll narrow the field," Dean grumbled.

"It does talk about the eyes- that the people the Phaeren brainwashes usually share some sort of trait with them."

"Hang on," Natalie said slowly. She remembered the first time she looked at Hayden. The first thing she had noticed was her large, violet eyes. She gasped.

"It's Hayden," she said quickly. "She's got purple eyes."

"What does that have to do with this?"

"Wasn't purple a color that denoted Roman Royalty?"

Sam rolled his eyes heavenward. She was right. "Yes. Sounds like we may have our Phaeren."

"Okay. Now that we got the target, next thing we need is a plan."

*SPN SPN SPN*

The next day at lunch, Natalie was sitting with her usual table of girls. She was nervous and tense, but trying not to show it, which of course made the whole thing worse. She had kept close tabs on Hayden as much as possible since her discovery last night with the boys. Nothing seemed out of place today, except their English class. The only bizarre thing Miss Princeton did was to ask Hayden to stay after briefly to discuss something. Confirming her suspicions in her mind, Natalie had tried to take her time putting her stuff up to eavesdrop, but the ever-helpful Lindsey saw her "struggling" and offered to help her pack up her stuff. There was no way that Natalie could have refused without it looking suspicious, so she had slapped on her fake smile and accepted the help, losing all chance of overhearing what it was that Miss Princeton was talking to Hayden about. She resolved to find a way to ask about what happened, if nothing else, just to see the look on Hayden's face and see if that gave anything away.

Sam, Dean, and Natalie had decided last night that she was going to stick like glue to Hayden as much as possible. Sam was close by, keeping eyes on her at all time, but of course from a distance, despite Dean's insistence on how good Sam would look in the school's uniform. Dean was on patrol of the rest of the campus. Natalie had a walkie talkie on her, stashed in her backpack. She had made them swear they wouldn't try to contact her with it while she was in class, and Sam had threatened to slash Baby's tires if Dean couldn't control his immaturity and not yell out dirty things over it while Natalie was in math.

As the rest of the girls were dropping their book bags at their respective seats around the lunch table, Natalie tried desperately to come up with a way to ask Hayden about Miss Princeton holding her after class without drawing attention or suspicion. To her immense surprise, Ainsley actually crossed the bridge for her without any prompting or anything.

"So- Hayden. What was it that Princeton wanted? Is she wanting to audition for one of your dad's movies or something?" Ainsley asked bluntly. She turned to Natalie. "I think Princeton's a wanna be actress."

"Better than just a wanna be," Kirsten muttered under her breath in Ainsley's direction, but only Natalie and Nevaeh heard it. They both quickly had to turn their snickers into coughs, but the three girls shared a quick smile. Hayden swept her long hair behind her casually before answering. The gold bangle bracelets on her wrist clinked as she did so. Suddenly, Natalie remembered the soft clinking sound she heard last night right before the hand touched Miss Princeton's face. Natalie gritted her teeth, wanting to take care of the bitch right then and there. But a lunch room was hardly the place to gank a monster. She tried to focus on Hayden's words.

"She said that she got a chance to look at my paper over again last night, and she decided on a different grade," Hayden answered in her soft voice. Natalie schooled her nerves to stay calm. So Miss Princeton was manipulated into changing Hayden's grade. She sent up a quick, thankful prayer that Princeton had changed it- otherwise, she had a nasty feeling that she would have ended up as the next corpse on the list if she had refused. Lindsey nodded furiously at Hayden, her usual brown-nosing routine going full speed.

"Good! Your paper was so awesome. It seriously gave me goose bumps," she said in her tiny little voice. Ainsley didn't say anything rude, but she couldn't resist rolling her eyes at Lindsey's eagerness to stay on Hayden's good side. _Maybe staying on Hayden's good side is the smartest thing she could be doing,_ Natalie thought bitterly to herself. Hayden smiled at Lindsey.

"Thanks," she said in her quiet, sweet voice. "She bumped it up to an A minus. I still don't think I did as good as Nevaeh, though." Her violet eyes sought Nevaeh's across the table. Nevaeh shifted awkwardly in her seat, and blushed.

"No- I just...I mean, I really understood the material- not that you don't or anything," she said awkwardly. Hayden's eyebrows went up, but then she smiled benignly on her.

"No, I understand what you mean. I just wish that I could do as well as you in that class," she said, a touch of sorrow in her voice.

"Nevaeh, what grade did you get?" Lindsey squeaked. Nevaeh blushed even deeper, wanting the focus off of her.

"Well, I- I mean, I added that whole section about the Greek culture at the time Eurydice was written, so...I guess she took that as extra credit. I got an A plus."

"Nevaeh, that's great!" Kirsten said, patting her on the back a little harder than necessary, sending the girl pitching forward towards the table. "Oops, sorry," Kirsten apologized. "Just got out of boxing. I guess I'm still a bit pumped from that."

Hayden smiled again, shaking her head. Her eyes trained on Nevaeh and narrowed a bit, but she continued to smile. "Well, congratulations. I'm sure that A plus was well deserved."

"Sydney? Why are you so quiet today? Are you sick or something?" Ainsley suddenly asked, looking at Natalie. All eyes at the table swung to her. Natalie quickly focused on Ainsley with her fake smile.

"Sorry- just got a lot on my mind today," Natalie said in what she hoped was a carefree manner, even though she felt anything but. It looked to her like the Phaeren had found her next target.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Later on that night, Natalie headed to Hayden's dorm room. Hayden had declared another movie night- this time, with a movie that hadn't even been released in theaters yet. Natalie had texted Sam and Dean at once. She knew Hayden was going to make her move tonight towards Nevaeh, and all three of them were ready. Sam had stationed himself in the adjacent building, keeping an binoculared eye on Hayden. Natalie tried to ignore the fact that if someone was really determined to do so, it was apparently really easy to see into the girls' dorm rooms. At the moment, she was nothing but grateful for the fact.

Dean was actually on the grounds now, the dark providing his cover. He was watching the building also, watching the door for anyone with glowing eyes either coming in or out. Natalie had armed herself to the teeth- as much as she could without actually having any fire power on her. She felt almost naked without the gun now, knowing what she was walking into, but there had been absolutely no way that she could have ever smuggled one successfully onto the campus. Along with the usual- salt, lighter, and holy water- she had her favorite Bull's-eyes; her nickname for her silver throwing knives. She even had a iron spoon in her right pocket, but wasn't sure that it would even do any good. The only thing that they had discovered on the website was a way to "stop" a Phaeren, not kill it. Sam had discovered that cutting off the Phaeren's hands removed its power. The website was unclear as to whether or not this actually killed the Phaeren, since they were still widely thought to be mythological creatures. They had all hoped that if the Phaeren resembled humans so closely, it could be killed like any other human. But first, they had to start with the hands.

Natalie shifted her weight as she walked down the hall towards Hayden's room to feel her favorite knife shift in her sock. She knew it was there, she just like the sensation of feeling it- almost like it was a security blanket for her. She knew those knives were sharp enough to cut through flesh- she gritted her teeth at thinking about them cutting through bone. She shoved the rising bile down as she reached Hayden's door. She took a deep breath, and knocked.

"Come in," said the gentle voice from inside. Natalie opened the door. As usual, Hayden was sitting in her expensive, lumbar supporting, pink leather desk chair, while Lindsey ran around the room, making sure all the popcorn was perfectly popped and the ice was still frozen. Kirsten was stretched out on the floor, one leg in the air as she pulled it towards her, stretching it out. At Natalie's confused look, Kirsten grinned.

"Just came from soccer," she said. Natalie couldn't help but chuckle.

"You going for the gold in every Olympic sport known to man?" she asked. Kirsten laughed.

"You bet I am," she replied saucily. Natalie looked around, and immediately noticed that Nevaeh wasn't there. A moment of panic overtook her- was she too late? Had Hayden already made her move? Lindsey caught her looking around, and as if reading her mind, piped up with the answer.

"Nevaeh's not coming tonight- she said she had some homework to finish. I don't know why- seriously, is there anything more important than movie night? I don't think so," she declared with a squeaky little huff. Hayden reached out a hand and gently took Lindsey's wrist as if to calm her. Natalie focused intensely on the connection, her eyes almost straining to see if there was any blood on Hayden's hand.

"It's okay. School stuff, like grades, are important," Hayden said, giving Lindsey's hand a sweet little shake. As she did, the gold bangles clinked together on her wrist again.

"I've been meaning to tell you- I really like your bracelets, Hayden," Natalie said, watching the girl like a hawk for the reaction. Hayden looked surprised at the sudden compliment. She released Lindsey's hand, and shook her own, the bangles sweetly clanking together again.

"Thank you," she said in her soporific voice. "My best friend gave them to me." She smiled again at Lindsey, who was busy opening tiny cans of Diet Pepsi.

"Wow- that's great. They must be really special to you, huh? I don't think I've ever seen you take them off."

"Oh, no. Never. I never will." _Bingo,_ thought Natalie. _Got you red handed. HA! Red handed! Because of the blood on her hands! I'm hilarious._

"Hey Linds- you know where Ainsley is?" Kirsten suddenly piped up. "I'm dying to see this movie. Supposedly, there's a scene where you can totally see Zac Efron's butt," she said with a throaty laugh.

Hayden looked at Kirsten disapprovingly, but she couldn't hide the smile that was creeping onto her face. "Kirsten- he's old enough to be your father," she reminded her gently. Kirsten shrugged and threw on a cocky grin.

"Doesn't mean I can't enjoy it," she said, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. _Ha! Well, Dad would totally love hanging out with you,_ Natalie thought to herself. Lindsey piped up again, as if she hadn't heard any of the previous conversation.

"Not sure. Let me go try to call her," she said, darting out of the room across the hallway into her own dorm room. Once she was out of the room, Hayden suddenly turned to Natalie.

"Hey Sydney?" she said quietly. Ever fiber in her body alert, Natalie tried to play cool and answer her casually.

"Yeah?"

"Can you do me a huge favor? Will you go get me a bottle of water? I don't feel well, and Diet Pepsi isn't going to do it for me tonight," Hayden asked, a bit anxiously. Natalie was thrown. There was no way that she wanted to leave Kirsten alone with a monster, but if she didn't do as Hayden asked, she might go full beast right now. The knowledge that Sam was watching Hayden's every move was the only reason she agreed to go. After assuring the girls that she would be right back, Natalie practically sprinted out of the girl's room towards her own, where she kept plastic bottles full of holy water. _No harm in trying,_ she thought. She darted into her room and grabbed a bottle. However, as she was barreling out of the room, she ran smack dab into Ainsley.

"Whoa- sorry, didn't see you there," Natalie said quickly, grabbing Ainsley to steady her. But Ainsley seemed fine. Actually, she didn't seem affected at all. She didn't say anything, she just walked past Natalie down the hallway. Natalie's jaw dropped open- in the entire week she had known her, Natalie had never heard Ainsley quiet- ever. "Ainsley?" she called out tentatively. But the girl simply kept walking. "Ainsley!" Natalie yelled with force. Ainsley stopped in her tracks, and turned, looking Natalie full in the face.

Her eyes were glowing purple.

As Natalie's heart leapt into her throat, Ainsley turned back, continued down the hallway, and around the corner. Without missing a beat, Natalie pulled out her walkie talkie.

"Dad! Uncle Sam! Are you there?" she hissed frantically into it, her head whipping back and forth between Hayden's door and the hallway that Ainsley had just turned down.

The walkie talkie crackled with sudden static, and with an accompanying flood of relief, Natalie heard Dean's voice.

"Hey- I'm here- what's up?"

"Ainsley's been possessed by the Phaeren. She's heading out of the building."

"That doesn't make any sense," Sam's voice crackled through the speaker. "I didn't see Hayden move at all."

"Maybe she fed Ainsley something that had her blood in it or something- I don't know," Natalie said in a rush. "Dad- should I follow her?"

"Hell yes. I'm right outside. Stay a safe distance behind her, but stay with her. I'll join you in a minute. Sammy, keep your eyes peeled on Hollywood girl, got it?"

"Copy that," Sam said before signing off. Natalie obeyed orders, swiftly but quietly walking down the hallway. Just as she rounded the corner, she spotted Ainsley at the large oak doors that led into the campus courtyard. Natalie kept peering around the corner, but made sure that the rest of her was hidden. Ainsley pulled open the heavy wooden doors and exited the building. Natalie swiftly made her way down the hallway, keeping in mind Dean's instructions to stay a safe distance away. When she reached the doors and slowly pulled them open, she was unsurprised to see Dean standing there.

There was a brief moment of joy, seeing as how she hadn't actually laid eyes on her father in over a week. The only time that they had ever been apart that long was her previous foray into public education. She still hated it that feeling of separation, ten years later. Seeing his face again reminded her of all the times she had seen him pull up to her elementary school and the subsequent elation she felt. The joy was still as sweet now. Dean grinned upon seeing her.

"Hey kiddo," he whispered, giving her a quick one armed hug. As the large wooden door was shutting, he swiftly looked down the hallway behind her. Natalie could see him calculating the distance versus how long ago Ainsley had crept out of the building. He gave her an approving grin. "Nice distance," he said with a pleased jerk of his head. Natalie gave him a genuine smile back at his praise. God, he had missed that smile. The piece of him that had been missing all week was locked back into place. He felt like he was whole again. But they had a bigger problem on their hands at the moment. "Come on," he hissed, turning his attention back to the courtyard. He nodded towards a small figure in the distance- Ainsley. "I'm dying to know where Purple Eyes is headed. Stay close to me." Dean began a casual lope in Ainsley's direction, far enough back that it wouldn't look like they were following her. Natalie kept pace right with him.

They followed the girl to the library. Natalie took a moment to hiss into Dean's ear. "I think the target is going to be Nevaeh- Hayden seemed upset that she got a better grade on our English paper. She said that Nevaeh was working on homework tonight- and knowing her, she's in the library." Dean just nodded, once, to show he understood. They quickly approached the doors and cautiously opened them. Once they slipped inside, Dean gently put his arm out, pressing Natalie against the wall beside him. They silently crept towards the study tables. Natalie couldn't help but think that this place sort of looked like the library at Hogwarts, when a movement caught her eye.

Nevaeh was sitting at the far table, her books spread out all over one of them. There was a can of Red Bull next to her, and she looked like she was completely engrossed in whatever she was reading. Suddenly, a figure sprinted out from between the bookshelves at Nevaeh. Natalie could see a streak of purple light as the figure rushed past. Without fully meaning to, Natalie took off sprinting towards Nevaeh. "MOVE!" she screamed at her. Nevaeh looked up, startled at the loud voice breaking the silence, but upon seeing two people barreling towards her as fast as they could, she dove off her chair with a scream. Just as Ainsley reached the chair, Natalie slammed into her full force, tackling her to the ground. "Dad!" she hollered, locking her hands around Ainsley's wrists as the girl struggled to buck Natalie off of her. Dean understood what she meant. He bolted over to Nevaeh, helping her up off the ground.

"You okay? Hey- you okay?" he practically shouted at her; the adrenaline was coursing through his veins. When she nodded frantically, terrified, Dean shoved her towards the door. "Go hide- we'll come get you! We'll find you, just go!" Nevaeh didn't need to be told twice. She sprinted for the door to the library. Dean watched as the frightened girl ran out the door, then turned his attention back to his daughter. Natalie had pulled herself and Ainsley off the floor, and had her arms locked around the struggling girl. Natalie whipped her head around, and saw a janitor's closet on the wall to her left. With a great heave, she pulled the still struggling Ainsley with her towards it. Both girls were roughly the same size, but Natalie had years of Marine-style training under her belt, while the biggest thing Ainsley had ever broken was a nail. Dean saw what Natalie was doing, and ran ahead to yank the door open. When Natalie finally dragged the enchanted girl over to it, she promptly tossed her head first into the closet and slammed the door shut. She threw the deadbolt latch, while Dean grabbed a nearby chair and wedged it under the door handle, both of them ignoring the yells and pounding fists from inside the closet. After quickly double checking that the lock and chair were holding, Dean looked at his daughter approvingly.

"You're getting stronger, squirt," he said, still a bit winded from his sprint across the room. Natalie shrugged.

"Apparently the Phaeren doesn't give you supernatural strength- just controls your mind. Ainsley's a weak thing- she can't even open jars by herself." Natalie looked at the door where Ainsley was trapped. There was still wild pounding on the door. Natalie smirked at Dean. "I can't pretend that it didn't feel good to shove her in there."

Dean chuckled. "Well, live it up, kiddo. You deserve it." He stepped away from the door, as the sounds coming from the closet now suggested that the still-under-the-influence Ainsley was throwing her body against the door in an effort to get out. "Persistent little devil, ain't she?" he asked, looking at the door in disbelief. "Guess we just wait for the Phaeren juice to wear off-" He didn't get to finish his sentence.

Out of the darkness, a small body came hurling at him from behind, wrapping its arms around his neck and choking off the rest of his sentence. Natalie instantly whipped her knife out of her sock and made to attack, but stopped dead when she saw the large butcher knife being held to her father's throat. She froze, unable to move.

"One wrong move and he's dead," came a small, squeaky voice from Dean's back. Natalie had to shake her head. She knew that voice, but she couldn't be hearing properly- there was no way.

"Lindsey?" she said disbelievingly. No. There was no way. Except that...it was. Lindsey peered over Dean shoulder, still clinging to him like a child getting a piggy back ride. The knife at Dean's throat glistened dangerously in the soft light from the lamps on the mahogany library tables. Lindsey looked down on Natalie, her eyes full of disdain.

"You are NOT going to ruin this for me," Lindsey hissed. Natalie still couldn't believe it. Lindsey? Brown noser, squeaky, subservient Lindsey? While she was trying to wrap her head around the facts that were right in front of her, Natalie slipped her hand into her pocket. She rolled her weight back onto her right foot, trying to look casual. Lindsey snorted.

"You really think that's convincing? I'm holding a knife to your father's throat. Don't try to play calm with me," she sneered in her tiny voice. Natalie dropped the casual stance, but kept her hand in her pocket, squeezing the button on the object in there.

"Fine," Natalie growled back. "So I take it that you're the Phaeren."

"There you go, living up to that big brain of yours," Lindsey spat at her, the squeaky voice bouncing off the walls in the silence.

"Okay. We get it- you're the real Queen Bee around here. How many of them are you controlling?" Natalie said, desperate to keep Lindsey talking until she could figure out a way of getting the bitch off her father, and that knife away from his throat. She made fleeting eye contact with Dean. She could read his instructions to remain calm in his gaze, but it was clear he didn't have a way out of this either. So she just kept talking. "I mean, Ainsley's locked in the closet, and obviously you're controlling Hayden-"

"NO! I would NEVER do that to her!" Lindsey screamed in rage. Natalie took a step back as Lindsey pushed the blade closer in to Dean's throat. "She's the reason I'm here," the girl said, the reverent sound back in her voice. Now THIS sounded like the Lindsey that Natalie knew. The confused look on Natalie's face made Lindsey take a deep breath. Natalie saw the blade move away from Dean's neck a fraction of an inch. "Hayden is the only person who actually treats me like I'm someone. And do you know who I am?" Lindsey hissed, a crazed look in her eye. "I am the direct descendant of the Roman Throne! I am a Goddess! Hayden's beautiful eyes and powerful status was like nectar to me. I could live off of her- feed off her essence. I even gave her my own mother's priceless bracelet as a token of my friendship and affection." As she said that, Natalie noticed the golden bangle on Lindsey's wrist as well. Lindsey saw her looking at it. "Yes. I have one just like it. Treasures from my homeland that remind me of the perks of being what I am."

"And what perk is that?" Natalie said evenly.

"Hayden," Lindsey replied, the tone of worship back in her voice. "In almost two hundred years, I've never found someone like her- someone who doesn't treat me like dirt."

"You're feeding off her life essence," Natalie said bleakly. Lindsey nodded. "But- isn't that going to...kill her? If you love her so much, how could you do that to her?" Natalie asked, truly confused.

"I'm not hurting her. I've been very careful to siphon only what I need off of her. As long as she's happy and wants me around, I still live like a Goddess. I would do anything to keep her happy- anything to keep her in her status."

"Even kill."

"That gym teacher was going to fail her! I can't let her fail!"

"And the other student?"

"She said that she had found some information on Hayden's father that would ruin him. Hayden was so upset- I couldn't let her keep feeling that way. Her eyes are too beautiful to be red from crying. I had to make things right."

"By killing?!"

"I've done worse things to stay alive," Lindsey muttered. "But that doesn't matter. Tonight, I'm going to finish you off, and you won't be able to outshine Hayden anymore," she hissed, her crazed eyes snapping in the light.

Natalie removed her hand from her pocket, and took a fighting stance. "Lindsey- we can talk this out, okay? It doesn't have to be like this. But if you come at me, I'm going to hurt you, and that's the last thing you want."

"Oh, I know that," she said coolly. "So I won't come at you." Quick as a flash, Lindsey spun the knife around in her hand so she was holding it like a dagger. "But HE will." Before Natalie could make a move, Lindsey sliced open her fingertips, and ran her hand down Dean's face.

"NO!" Natalie screamed, lunging forward. Lindsey loosened her grip from around Dean's neck, dropping to the ground. Dean's head was thrown back suddenly. Natalie watched in horror as the blood seeped into her father's face. He looked down on her, his eyes glowing purple. Lindsey looked at him, and his face turned towards hers, under her control. She gave Natalie an evil grin.

"Kill her," she said simply.

"Aw, shit," Natalie whimpered to herself. Dean, being completely controlled by the Phaeren, started stalking his way directly at her. She knew that Dean wasn't himself right now. Both he and Sam had prepared her for this situation. Sam and Dean had been possessed by other things and had attacked each other. They had been very upfront and honest that something like this was a very real possibility. But coming face to face with it was completely different that discussing it during a training session. Natalie shoved away all the sudden rush of memories of Dean tucking her in, soothing her when she was sick, and holding her on the rare occasion that she cried. _I have to get him back to normal, and I can't do that if he incapacitates me,_ she thought logically to herself. She ignored the screaming emotions in her brain, and took her fighting stance. She knew what needed to be done- but there was no way she could throw the first punch. He was going to have to attack first.

She didn't have to wait long. Dean closed the gap between them at an alarming speed. He aimed a cold-cocked punch straight at the center of her face. She was expecting it- it was Dean's favorite way to end a fight before it had begun. She deftly dodged it and planted a right hook into his kidney. He grunted with pain, but his psychotic glowing eyes narrowed. He whipped around at lightning speed, grabbed her by the throat, and lifted her straight into the air. Natalie kicked her feet violently as she struggled to breathe. Her hands locked on Dean's wrist, trying to pull away from his crushing fingers, but to no avail. He hurled her backwards onto one of the library tables. All the remaining air in her lungs exited as she hit the table with a grunt. She wasn't heavy enough to break the sturdy table legs, but the momentum of her body crashing into it made it topple, slamming her head into the ground as the table flipped her. She saw stars for a moment. Just as they were beginning to clear, Dean's tall silhouette fell on her. She was still too dazed and disoriented to get up. She tried to scramble backwards against his advance. She felt herself back into the wall, and knew there was nowhere else to go. She watched in horror as Dean reached behind his shirt and pulled out his favorite silver .45. He aimed the gun directly at Natalie's heart.

Before she could even catch her breath to scream, a foot connected with Dean's face in a back roundhouse kick, sending both him and the gun flying. Natalie's mouth dropped open. Kirsten was adjusting the large, fluffy ribbon in her ponytail. She looked down at Natalie and shrugged. "Judo lessons," she explained casually, as if she was telling Natalie how she'd gotten an A on her last homework assignment instead of saving her life. She reached a hand down and pulled Natalie up. "You okay?" she asked. Before Natalie could answer or even ask what the hell she was doing there, there was a loud thud. Kirsten's eyes glazed over, and she toppled forward, hitting her knees before she hit the floor. Natalie tried to grab her, but she had fallen so fast she slipped right through Natalie's hands. Lindsey was standing there, holding a lamp from a nearby table. Natalie desperately wanted to check to see if Kirsten was bleeding, but with Lindsey advancing, there was no way. Just then, she saw Dean getting up out of the corner of her eye. She was backed into a corner, no way out.

"You should have left well enough alone," Lindsey said, her squeaky voice betraying the evil in her words. "I had only planned on killing one person tonight- now it's going to have to be four." As she slowly closed the gap between herself and Natalie, Dean did the same on the other side. Natalie's eyes darted back and forth between the two, finally landing on Dean. If she was going to die, she wanted his face to be the last thing she saw.

Just as Lindsey reached her hands back to club Natalie over the skull with the lamp, she let out of scream of horror. Natalie's face whipped around to see another tall figure standing right behind Lindsey, and a gleaming silver machete blade in his hand. Sam pulled the machete back, and Natalie heard two small thumps on the floor. She looked down just in time to see Lindsey's hands hit the ground before Sam ran the girl through with the full length of the blade, pulling her body in to his to make sure it had gone in all the way. Lindsey gave a final gasp as blood began pouring out from her torso. She landed in a pool of her own blood, and moved no more. The blood around her body began turning into a purple gas, wisping away into the night. Sam jumped back quickly to avoid it just as Lindsey's corpse disappeared in a puff of purple smoke. Natalie risked a glance at Dean. Purple gas seemed to be seeping from his eyes, and she saw them return to their normal, beautiful green. Natalie lay her head back against the wall, and just breathed, grateful that it was all over.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Natalie revived Kirsten, while Sam and Dean respectively rescued a very confused Ainsley from the locked janitor's closet, and found Nevaeh cowering in the girl's bathroom. The six of them limped back to Hayden's dorm room, only to find her passed out cold on her bed. Kirsten pursed her lips angrily.

"I'm betting that Lindsey drugged her- she fell asleep before you could get back with the water," she said to Natalie, turning to her with her hands on her hips. "When you didn't show up, and Lindsey didn't come back, I figured something weird was happening, so I followed Lindsey to the library." She shrugged, as if to say that following creepy brown nosers with bloody hands was all in a day's work. "So. Anyone want to explain what the hell just happened?" she said, looking at the Winchesters. After checking to make sure Hayden was actually asleep and in no danger, Sam, Dean and Natalie sat the other three down. Not for the first time did Natalie wish that she had that memory wiper gizmo from the Men In Black movies. Sam and Dean explained the entire situation to the girls. When Nevaeh shakingly asked how Natalie was involved, she sighed deeply, and came clean. Ainsley looked simply stunned that "Sydney Bonham from Denver Colorado" was actually a full time supernatural hunter, and was struck dumb. Nevaeh was still shaking, but Kirsten seemed to take it in stride.

"Good thing you guys figured this one out, or we all might have been killed," Kirsten said, putting her arm around Nevaeh, trying to help her calm down. Dean smirked at the girl approvingly.

"You'd make a kick ass hunter. Do you know that?" he said. Kirsten snorted.

"If the whole Olympics thing doesn't work out," she grinned at him, "I'll give you a call."

After getting their fake stories straight, Sam called in anonymously to the police, giving them the location of a "note" that Lindsey had "written", taking responsibility for all the murders. After that, the Winchesters packed up as fast as they could, and hightailed it across the state line.

When they reached a motel close to a roadside exit, they checked in, strictly needing to regroup for at least one night. Sam and Natalie had been sitting together on the couch, talking over the details of the case.

"It was a good thing you pressed the "talk" button on that Walkie Talkie in your pocket- otherwise, I never would have known that you guys had run into major trouble," Sam said, patting his niece on the knee.

"It was the only way that I could think of to tell you- with Lindsey holding a knife on Dad, any move I made to contact anyone would have been suicide," she said, leaning her head on his shoulder. He leaned down and kissed the crown of her hair.

"Well, I'm glad you're back, Bug. It wasn't the same around here without you," he said, his voice a bit husky. She gave him a rare, genuine smile.

"I missed you too," she said, before her smile twisted off to one side.

"I didn't miss you at all," Dean quipped, sitting next to her on the couch, and plunking his bottle of beer on the table. He turned and offered one to his daughter. "Here. You've earned this."

Natalie sat up straight, her green eyes wide as saucers. "You serious?" she asked, eyeing the bottle. Dean shrugged and smiled.

"First solo hunt. WITH permission," he said, a tone of teasing in his voice. "Absolutely you've earned it." Natalie didn't need to be told twice. She twisted the top off the bottle, and took a tentative sip. She swished the unfamiliar drink around in her mouth a few times before swallowing.

"Huh. That's...interesting," she said, before taking another swig. She looked at Sam as she swallowed. "You're okay with this?"

Sam grinned. "For once, I agree with your dad's poor choices. No doubt you've earned that." Natalie sat back, put her feet on the coffee table, and took another sip. It was getting easier, the more she actually drank. She turned to Dean, her grin twisting off to the side as per usual.

"Like hell you didn't miss me," she taunted. Dean shook his head, acting nonchalant.

"Didn't think about you once."

"Bullshit."

"Hand to God."

"We'll see about that," she said, sitting up again and grabbing his phone off the coffee table.

"Hey- what are you doing?" Dean asked, perplexed.

"Checking your score on Candy Crush," Natalie said, making quick work of unlocking his phone and diving into the app. Dean sat bolt upright on the couch. Sam chuckled.

"Dude- you play Candy Crush?" he asked his brother, not even bothering to contain a laugh.

"No," Dean said hotly. "It's...from when Natalie was a kid. I haven't gotten around to deleting it yet." He made a swipe for the phone, but Natalie jumped off the couch, out of reach. Sam's arm instantly slammed Dean back onto the couch, soccer mom style, wanting to see how this played out.

"Again- I call bullshit. You only play Candy Crush when you're really worried or upset," Natalie said as the game loaded. "AHA! You've gone up seventeen levels in the week I was gone." She waved the phone tauntingly at her father. "You SO missed me."

Dean rolled his eyes with a grunt. "Okay, I missed you. Just a little." But his cheeky grin at his daughter told her a different story. In reality, the week away from her had brought back all of Dean's nightmares of being separated from her when she was little. He hadn't had those dreams in a very long time, and had been hitting the coffee hard to disguise the fact that he hadn't been sleeping well. But his Baby Girl was back, and he was more proud of her than ever. When she sat back down, he put his arm around her, and pulled her in, close. She rested her head on his chest, finally feeling complete again.

"You guys totally owe me for what you put me through, by the way."

"We do not."

"I'm thinking a week in Maui ought to do the trick."

"Keep dreaming."

"I would be okay if it was Disney World, too."

"Not in this lifetime."

"How about we go tour the Jack Daniels brewery?"

"Forget it, Bug."

"Hang on Sammy. She may be on to something."


	54. Just As Much As I Am

**Good evening you fabulous wonderful person! I hope you are having a brilliant day!**

 **I wrote this story nearly a year ago, and have been waiting until Father's Day to publish it. Just getting it in under the wire, ha ha!**

 **A huge, amazing, very special thank you to all of you who have followed, reviewed, favorited, and continued to follow me. You all know how to make a girl feel special. I'm currently working on requests. If you have a request that I haven't gotten to yet, look for it soon (I'm looking at you, delacre and Happygoddess2003). As for my dear guest who left a request in a review, I'm working that brilliant idea into a new case story that I'm working on. So thank you!**

 **The biggest thank you of all to the lovely Jenmm31- the most bad ass beta/computer bestie a girl could ask for!**

 **This one goes out to the amazing dads and "sort of" dads in my life. I've been fortunate enough to have several "Sort of" dads, and they have shaped my life just as much as my fabulous dad has. Thank you for being in this "just as much" as he was.**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is 6. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

"Daddy..." came a gentle whisper from somewhere on his left. It was hard to tell the true direction of the sound, not really being awake yet.

"Mmmph."

"Daaaaaaaaaddy..."

No response.

"DADDY!"

Dean bolted straight out of bed, snatching his favorite .45 from underneath his pillow. He aimed the gun wildly around the room, trying to assess the danger, or at least what caused his daughter to scream like that. However, all he saw was the six year old sitting right next to where his head had been only seconds ago.

"Oh good! You're up!" she said, chipper as a Girl Scout on badge day. Dean exhaled slowly, the tension beginning to drain from his body upon realizing that there was no danger- just a child who apparently decided he was done sleeping. He slammed the gun down onto the night stand, turned, and gave his daughter The Eye. Normally, that look would have made her go running for the corner, but she just sat there, grinning to beat the band. He drug a hand across his eyes, wiping away the crustiness and trying to get his bearings.

"Natalie," he said, his voice gravelly from sleep, his eyes pinched shut to avoid the bright light coming through the motel window. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" he finished up grumpily, glaring down at the kid.

"Nope."

"Then you wanna tell me why you decided to scream in my ear like that?"

"Because I wanted you to wake up."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, mission accomplished. What do you want, you little howler monkey?"

She began bouncing up and down on the bed. "It's Father's Day! Happy Father's Day!" She jumped to her feet and threw her arms out wide. It was the only indication that Dean had of her next intention, which was to jump straight into his arms. Luckily for her, he knew her well enough to know the "I'm about to launch myself at you" look. He caught her as she hurled herself at him, but between his sleepy state and the sudden force of a six year old tornado, it knocked his breath right out of his lungs. She giggled a couple times, wrapped her arms around his neck, and planted a kiss on his unshaven cheek. Even in his tired state, Dean couldn't help but smile. Of course she was excited- she had been planning this day for weeks.

She had been on the road with the boys since the moment school ended in May; happy, laughing, and hyper as a hummingbird drinking Red Bull. Dean felt whole again, after being separated from her during the long school year. Even Sam was happier, since Dean's cranky silences and moods were now virtually gone. It was hard to be cranky around an excitable bundle of six year old energy.

Dean pulled her in tight to his torso and jumped back onto his bed, causing her to shriek with pleasure at his sudden rapid and crazy movements. He lay down on his back, pulling her on top of him, but keeping his arms wrapped around her so she couldn't escape. Of course, this made her squirm and try to break his hold, laughing in those little explosions that only six year olds can do. He made a face at her.

"I thought I was allowed to sleep in. It is FATHER'S Day, after all," he said, cocking one eyebrow playfully at her. She stopped trying to wiggle out of his arms, and instead put both hands on his face, squishing his lips together so they formed duck lips. That made her laugh, especially when he spoke again, the duck lipped face mangling his words. "I'm supposed to do what I wanna do."

Natalie took her hands off of Dean's face, and put them on either side of his head to keep her balance. "Sleeping is boring! It's Father's Day- I wanna play with you!" she declared. Dean grinned. God, he loved this kid. Just the fact that she wanted to spend time with him still baffled him. He didn't think he was all that interesting, but apparently the kid thought different. "Uncle Sam said I wasn't allowed to wake you up until eight," she explained, very seriously. "Or I woulda done it way earlier."

Dean turned his head and looked at the clock on the bedside table. Sure enough, 8:02. Well, at least Sam had bought him some time. He looked over at the bathroom door. He had assumed that his brother was in there when he hadn't seen him during this morning's assault, but the door was open. As if to answer his question, Natalie piped up. "Uncle Sam went to get you your favorite breakfast for Father's Day!" she squealed excitedly. Dean chuckled.

"As long as it's coffee and bacon, I'm good," he said. Natalie nodded vigorously.

"That's what I told him to get!" she said, thrilled that she had been right. Dean laughed out loud at her, and pulled her in closer to his face.

"You're pretty damn cute- you know that?" he said, putting his little girl in and touching noses with her. Usually, her response was to agree with him, but instead she wrinkled her nose.

"You got bad breath," she said, making a face at him. Her frankness made him chuckle. He wrinkled his nose right back at her.

"And gee. I wonder why that is? Could it be because someone couldn't wait for me to get up and brush my teeth before attacking me?" he said, starting to tickle her. She shrieked and giggled, twisting to try to get away from him. "You think my breath is bad, wait till you smell this," he said, then rolled onto his side, taking her with him. He plunked her down on her back next to him, and immediately threw his armpit over her face. As she squealed in mock outrage, he reached around and gripped the sheet with his right hand, making it even harder for her to push his heavy arm off. He laughed tauntingly at her. "Mmmmm. Pretty ripe under there, right?" he said, pressing his underarm into her face even more. She couldn't stop laughing long enough to speak, but she reached out under his arm and began beating his back and tricep with her fists. Dean snatched one of her hands with his left hand, and made her start smacking her own head with it. "Why're you hitting yourself? Why're you hitting yourself? Why're you hitting yourself?" he said in a playfully snide voice every time he made her bonk herself in the head. She couldn't answer; she was screaming with laughter.

Just then, Sam opened the door. "Morning, Sammy!" Dean called out pleasantly from the bed, with Natalie still pinned, twisting, kicking and "hitting herself", under his armpit. Sam just grinned and set down the container tray of coffee and the Styrofoam take out boxes.

"Did she at least wait until eight like I told her to?" Sam threw over his shoulder at his brother, trying to drown out his niece's shrieks.

"Yup. Next year, make it noon," Dean replied. He lifted his arm and released his daughter, who immediately started taking overdramatic deep gasping breaths since she was no longer trapped in his smelly armpit. "Alright, squirt, time to get up. And you need a bath. You smell terrible."

She instantly popped up and put her hands on her hips, adopting a bitch face. _Damn Sam for teaching her that,_ Dean thought. She shook one little finger at him. _Yeah, he definitely taught her that one, too._

"I took a bath last night! YOU smell 'cause you're a smelly smell face!" Dean shook his head, getting back up off the bed.

"We gotta work on your comebacks, kid. Food time," he said, gesturing to the table. Natalie didn't need to be told twice. She sprang up on Dean's bed, then bounced once and jumped off, landing hard on her feet. Sam looked over at her, shaking his head.

"Natalie," he scolded. "Don't jump off the bed like that; you're going to get hurt."

"You sound like Pops," she commented, rather than acknowledge what Sam has said. Dean grunted in agreement as he made his way towards the table tucked in the corner of the motel room. "He always says I can't run and jump and climb on stuff," she commented, clearly not pleased with the fact that she was always being told to stop running around.

"And he's right," Sam said, opening the boxes, checking to see which breakfast was in which container. "You don't wanna break your legs, do you?"

"Yes!" she said, giggling as she scooted into her chair. Sam just chuckled and shook his head. He put the container with the pancakes down in front of her. He took her chin gently in his fingers, and made sure she was looking at him.

"Don't do it again," he said, quietly but firmly. She sighed.

"Yes, sir," she said, a petulant look in her eyes. Sam smiled, and ruffled her hair. She blew a raspberry at him as she flattened her hair back down with both of her hands. Her attention turned back towards her father. "Come on, Dad! Breakfast for Father's Day!"

"It is too early to be this loud, kid. Take it down a notch," Dean said, but his grin was going unchecked. This was no different than any other morning, except that it happened to be Father's Day. That wasn't going to stop the six year old tornado, though. She had been too young before to really understand the different holidays and what they were all about. However, last Christmas had changed all that. She now thought every single holiday needed to be celebrated with its own unique blow out. Being on the road certainly hampered her ability to create the usual destruction that accompanied her big ideas, but she still was over abundantly excited for every holiday now. Dean prayed she didn't have anything planned in her little head. They had been very clear that they needed to travel today, but had agreed to stay at the motel long enough for breakfast for a "celebration". Dean sat himself down at the table, pulling the Styrofoam container closer to him. He could smell the delicious scent of bacon wafting from it. He grinned at his brother across the table.

"Now THAT will wake you up in the mornin'," Dean quipped happily before taking a slug of coffee. Sam chuckled, digging deep into his yogurt parfait for a strawberry, and then looked up at Dean.

"Hey," Sam said. "You think we should call Bobby? I mean, it IS Father's Day," he said, shrugging a shoulder at Dean. Dean's mouth was full of bacon, but he nodded as he swallowed. Before he could speak, Natalie chimed in.

"Yeah! Let's call Pops! 'Cause he's kind of your dad but not really. And I can talk to him," she explained, clearly under the impression that it had been her idea all along. Sam turned to her with a smile. It was so easy to smile when she was around- he had forgotten that.

"Since he's 'kind of our dad', don't you think we should get to talk to him, Bug?" he asked, teasing his niece. She chewed her bite of pancake and swallowed before answering. For a child of Dean, Sam felt that to be a great accomplishment.

"Okay. You can talk to him too," she acquiesced very graciously. Sam just snickered. He pulled his phone out of his pocket. Natalie swung her legs around and almost fell of her chair in her excitement to call Bobby. She landed on her feet, but just barely. She ran over to Sam, and started jumping up and down while he located Bobby's number and hit the "call" button. Sam reached one strong arm down and scooped up his bouncing niece, depositing her on his lap. She wriggled in excitement, but didn't make an attempt to grab Sam's phone- past experiences had taught her that Sam and Dean weren't fond of her doing that, to put it nicely. Her eyes bore holes into Sam's, just waiting for Bobby to pick up the phone.

Finally, after about four rings, he did. "Sam," Bobby said gruffly, by way of greeting.

"Hey. Hi Bobby. Sorry to call you so early, but Natalie had something she wanted to tell you," Sam said, a grin in his voice. He handed the phone over to the little firecracker on his lap, who took it with a delighted squeal.

"HI POPS HAPPY FATHER'S DAY!" she screamed into the phone. Dean just about inhaled his coffee laughing. He could only imagine what Bobby was doing right now- probably holding the phone as far away from his face as possible, while muttering every curse word known to man and the angels. He was glad he wasn't the only one who suffered this morning.

After a moment, Bobby came back on the line. "Yeah, okay there, Little Bit," he said, which of course Natalie knew was Pops Code for "Thank You". "Did you tell your daddy that too?"

"Yup! I woke him up with it first thing this morning!"

"Yeah, I bet you did," Bobby grumbled. His old heart was actually rather touched- the Winchesters were the closest thing he had left to a family. For them to call him on Father's Day was something he wasn't expecting. "You behaving yourself?" he said gruffly into the phone, which again, Natalie knew was Code for "How's everything going?" She had gotten to understand Bobby pretty well this past year. She knew she had him wrapped around her tiny finger, but he didn't always know how to say what he meant. She was getting pretty good at translating the Bobby Code.

"Nope!" she said, giggling. That made Bobby snort with laughter himself.

"Good. You give those boys hell, you hear?" Giggling. "Hey- put your uncle back on the phone, okay?"

"Okay! I love you, Pops!"

Bobby mumbled it a bit, but she could hear him say, "Love you too," before she handed the phone back to Sam and leaning back against his chest, wanting to remain on his lap for the rest of the conversation.

"Sorry about that," Sam said, his smile betraying his words. "Thought she'd gotten all of the screaming out of her system already."

"You nuts? She'll never get all the screaming out of her system, Sam," Bobby grumbled. "You boys heading to West Virginia?"

"Soon as we finish breakfast."

"Good. Call me when you get there, got some new info for you."

"Great, thanks Bobby. Oh, and..." Sam squirmed a bit. He wasn't sure how Bobby was going to take this, but he knew he'd kick himself if he didn't at least attempt to say it. However, he was having a hard time getting the words out. He wanted to convey how much the old man meant to him, but Bobby was not one for sentiment. Finally, Bobby spoke up to cover the silence.

"Spit it out, Sam, I ain't got all day."

After about ten seconds of awkward silence, he cleared his throat and went for it. "Happy Father's Day, Bobby."

There was silence on the other end of the line. Finally, Bobby said, "That's what you made me wait to hear? Idjit." Sam laughed, but he could hear the grin in the old man's voice, and his heart felt a bit lighter. Dean looked up and gestured towards Sam, but once again, his mouth was too full of bacon to actually speak.

"Dean says Ditto," Sam translated.

"Yeah, yeah. Same to you both," he said, unable to contain his smile. "Talk to you tomorrow." And he hung up. Sam knew that Bobby was actually touched by the call. However, the fact that he had wished Sam a Happy Father's Day too- in his own way- was almost...disconcerting to him. Sam wasn't a father. Sure, he did his best by his niece, but this day wasn't for him. Sam felt a strange mixture of confusion and annoyance, with just a touch of longing. He saw how much better Dean was as a result of having Natalie in his life, and for just a split second- he was jealous. But then he remembered how much better he was because of Natalie, too. He squeezed her once before she wriggled off his lap to go finish her pancakes. But instead of going back to her chair, she pranced her way over to her little backpack which was already packed up for the trip. She unzipped it and carefully withdrew a folded up piece of paper. She bounced back to Dean, and handed it to him.

"Here you go, Dad! Happy Father's Day! I drew it myself," she said, a smug, pleased look on her face. Dean looked at the folded piece of paper. On the outside, she had written, "To my best dad in the whole world, love Natalie Grace Winchester". Dean had to swallow a little lump in his throat. There was no way he was going to get all weepy over a picture- he had to have more testosterone than that. He unfolded the paper and examined the picture. As per usual, he couldn't make heads or tails of it at first. He could make out humanoid figures on top of...something...maybe dogs? He looked down at the little girl, who was giving him her thousand watt smile.

"It's really cool, kiddo. Tell me about it," he said, holding it out to her. Both he and Sam had learned the hard way not to ask what her pictures were. She had inherited the rest of her family's inability to draw, but she hadn't realized it yet. She got very upset if she was asked to identify the subjects of her drawings, but if you asked her ABOUT them, she was fine. She pulled the paper down gently towards herself, and pointed at the middle human-resembling drawing.

"It's the band AC/DC on unicorns! Look!" She pointed emphatically again to the paper. "See? He's wearing the hat that Brian Johnson wears!" And sure enough, when Dean looked at it through her filter, he could make out that the center drawing was a man on a unicorn wearing a golfing cap and shorts. His jaw hit the floor. He looked at the others- all the tell tale signs were there. Sleeveless shirts, long hair, the works. Dean turned his incredulous smile to his beaming child.

"You are officially THE coolest kid on the planet," he declared with passion. Natalie rolled her eyes dramatically and made a funny face.

"Well, DUH," she said, then giggled. Dean examined the picture more closely. The more he looked at it, noticing all the details, the more delighted he became. He held it out to Sam.

"Check it out, man! Didn't she do a good job?" he said excitedly. Sam took the picture to look at it himself, but he couldn't help thinking again just how much Dean had changed for the better. The twinge of longing that Sam felt hit him hard again, but he put on a brave smile. He handed the picture back to Dean.

"That's really great. You did a great job on that, Bug," he said, shooting the smile towards his niece, who had resumed her seat and was chomping away on her pancakes.

"Fank 'oo," she said, her mouth full. Sam was about to scold her for it, but then decided to let it go, just this once. Dean finally folded the picture back up, then pulled out his wallet.

"Since we don't got a refrigerator that I can hang this on," he said to Natalie, showing her the folded up picture. "It's going in my wallet so I can keep it with me."

She swallowed noisily. Her green eyes got as wide as they could. "Forever?" she asked in awe.

"Damn straight forever," Dean said, tucking the picture into his wallet, and slipping it back into the back pocket of his jeans. He grinned as Natalie squealed in delight once again, and resumed eating like a dock hand. He snorted a laugh, then pulled his own Styrofoam container close to him. He caught Sam's eye across the table.

"Happy Father's Day, man," Sam said, grinning at him. "I didn't draw you a picture, but I washed and waxed Baby this morning before you got up."

Dean put one hand to his heart, and tilted his head, a proud look on his face. "Thanks, Sammy."

"So when's Uncle's Day?" Natalie piped up unexpectedly, looking at Sam.

"What?" Sam said, who stopped suddenly, reaching for his coffee, as the question took him by surprise.

"When is Uncle's Day? There's a Father's Day and a Mother's Day (Dean shifted a bit uncomfortably at that, but Natalie didn't notice) and a Christmas Day, and everything. When is Uncle's Day so I can draw you a picture too?"

Sam looked up at Dean, not sure how to handle this one. Dean cleared his throat, and casually reached for his coffee. "Hate to break it to you, kiddo, but there's not really an Uncle's Day." He took a swig of his coffee, looking at his daughter over the rim of the to-go cup, wanting to see how this went over. She wrinkled her forehead in confusion.

"But...but..." she stuttered, trying to understand. "But...why not?"

Dean shrugged. "Well- because they haven't made one yet."

"Oh," she said quietly. She pressed a finger to her lips, apparently deep in though. Dean and Sam had a silent conversation over the table while she was distracted.

 _What was I supposed to say?_ Dean thought at Sam.

 _Beats me. That answer works as good as any._

 _Do you think she's upset?_

Sam glanced sideways at the little girl, but she hadn't moved. He shrugged helplessly, having no clue what was going on in her head. At that moment, she looked up, very seriously, at Dean.

"Dad- can you MAKE there be an Uncle's Day? I think Uncle Sam should have a day too," she said very matter of factly. Dean grinned at his big hearted little girl. She never wanted anyone to feel left out or not special, and it made him proud to realize that she was thinking about Sam having a separate day just to celebrate him too.

"Well, squirt, I don't really control national holidays," he said gently, a twinkle in his eye. Natalie sat up straight, confusion etched on her face.

"But I thought you control everything," she said simply. Sam pinched his lips together to keep the laugh from escaping. Dean had always been a control freak. _Out of the mouth of babes,_ he thought to himself. He threw a smug grin at his brother, but to his surprise, Dean was making a face to suggest that Natalie had a point. Finally, he turned to his daughter.

"You're right. I do. Okay. So we have an Uncle's Day now too," he declared with his superior grin.

"But not today- sorry, Uncle Sam," she said, looking at him again. "But today is Father's Day. And tomorrow can't be Uncle's Day, because I'd have to do so much work today to make tomorrow Uncle's Day, and I just CAN'T on Father's Day," she explained, sounding like an overworked six year old business executive. That didn't matter all that much to Sam though. The very thought that Natalie was wanting him to have his own special day made any jealousy and longing fly right out the window. He felt his heart warm inside his chest. Dean was grinning at him broadly.

"Alright then," Dean said, a hint of humor in his voice. "How about Tuesday then?"

"No!" Sam said quickly, causing both Dean and Natalie to look at him strangely for his sudden outburst. Ever since the Mystery Spot, Sam had had a prejudice against Tuesdays. He awkwardly cleared his throat and tried to recover. "I mean- Tuesday's no good for me."

Dean just stared at him blankly, but finally shook his head. "Alright. One week from today, it's Uncle's Day. How 'bout it?"

"YES!" Natalie squealed loudly, bouncing on her chair excitedly. She kept true to her word though; the rest of the day was all about Dean, who went to bed that Sunday night with a heart full of love from his daughter.

But that next day- the boys barely heard a peep from her as she planned out her Uncle's Day surprise, even going so far as to lock herself in the bathroom so Sam wouldn't accidentally get a peek at his picture. The rest of the week, she reminded Sam at least a dozen times NOT to look at the picture she was drawing, because it was a surprise. And he wouldn't look- not if his life depended on it. Having Natalie make such a fuss out of something so silly, he felt honored and embarrassed, all at the same time, even going so far as talking to Dean about it. When he expressed his concerns that Natalie was getting too worked up about a made up holiday, Dean just smiled at him, a little patronizingly, which made Sam flush.

"Sam, the kid's right. You deserve a day, too."

"I'm not her father, though."

"You think that matters to her? She wants to celebrate you."

"But Dean..." he began helplessly, not sure how to express his concern for not stealing Dean's thunder.

"Dude," Dean said gently. "You're important to her. And you know that there's no way in hell I can do this without you. If you don't know that by now, then you need to wake the hell up, because you're missin' one of the best things to happen to either one of us. You're in this just as much as I am. You deserve this. Let her do this, okay?" He clapped Sam on the shoulder. Sam had reluctantly accepted the praise and the point, so he let it be. Truth be told, he was a little excited, himself.

That next Sunday morning, he was just rousing from a dream when he heard a whisper in his left ear.

"Uncle Saaaaaaaaaaaam..."


	55. The Boys Are Back In Town

**Good Day, my darling SPN Family!**

 **Apologies that it's taken me so long to update. I'm involved in a personal project that is currently consuming my life, but I hope to be back in the game soon. Thank you so much for all of the reviews, requests, follows and favorites. I really can't do this without you guys. Special thanks to the best beta in the world, Jenmm31. If you haven't checked out her stuff yet, go do it. She just published a chapter that will make your heart shatter with its brilliance.**

 **This is a request from my dear guest Kim, who wanted to see Natalie on her first date :) Thank you Kim, big hugs to you my dear. I have another one shot right on the heels of this one- a request from delacre, so look for it soon!**

 **Always Keep Fighting. Love you guys.**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is 15. Please see profile page for disclaimers.**

The warm glow of the lamps spilled out over the rustic, gently worn sheen of the oak table. The only sound that could be heard was the clicking of the laptop keyboard, or the occasional "clink" of a beer bottle being set down. Dean couldn't remember the last time the bunker had been so quiet. It was soothing. For about twelve seconds. Then it was unsettling.

He shoved his chair away from his makeshift workstation. The scraping noise along the polished wood floor broke the serenity. It startled Sam, who quickly looked up from the glow of his own laptop. Sam gazed across the table as his brother stood up, started to walk one way, then about three steps later, changed his mind and walked the other way. Sam suppressed his smile as Dean whipped around, back towards him.

"Hey- you want a beer?" Dean asked, a little too loudly. Sam responded by holding up his still half-full bottle. "Ah," Dean said, nodding. He picked up his own half-full bottle, and in one mighty chug, emptied it. "I'm gettin' more," he announced as he turned on his heel and headed for the kitchen.

"She'll be back soon," Sam murmured. Dean stopped in his tracks and whipped back around.

"What?" he said, pretending not to have heard.

Sam looked up from his laptop again. "I said, she'll be back soon," he repeated in a soothing tone. Dean immediately slapped on his casual devil-may-care grin.

"I know that. She's fine. It's not even curfew yet. I'm not worried about her. Why, are you worried?" he said in a rush. Sam couldn't help but smile at Dean's nerves.

"Dude, you've got to calm down."

"I AM CALM!"

"Take it down a few notches, Dean," Sam said gently. Dean rolled his eyes, but didn't turn away. "You know where she's at, you know who she's with, and she's never missed a curfew yet. Why are you all up in arms all of the sudden?"

At that question, Dean did turn away and started stalking towards the kitchen. He wasn't ready to have this conversation. Not right now.

His fifteen-year-old daughter, Natalie, was out with some friends of hers in town. She usually went out with them once or twice when they were actually home in the bunker, but this was the third time she'd been out since they'd gotten home five days ago. And Dean thought he knew the reason why.

On their last hunting trip, the Winchesters had teamed up with another hunting family they had met who was working the same case they were. The father/son duo of Mitch and Tyler Dakari had proven themselves most effective in helping the Winchesters wipe out the psychotic Wendigo who had been terrorizing campers in the woods of Kentucky. After they had dispatched the monster, the men of the group all discovered over beers just how similar their backstories were. Tyler's mom had been lost to a demon possession, driving both father and son into the hunting world. Tyler and Natalie were about the same age, and had gotten along well- once Tyler had stopped trying to one-up her when it came to hunting. He had apparently felt he had something to prove, but since Natalie had bested him in- well, just about everything- he manfully conceded, and they started becoming friends.

The Dakaris decided to hang with the Winchesters for a while, learning from them and just for the companionship of having fellow hunters around. The boys offered the bunker to crash in, but Mitch had insisted on staying in town, eyeing his son up and down after Dean had offered. Dean hadn't understood it at the time- until he looked at his own daughter. Watching Tyler, she had lit up like the Fourth of July. He had never seen her that taken with a boy like that before. And so began Dean's active campaign to hate Tyler Dakari.

To be fair, he wasn't entirely sure that Natalie had invited Tyler to hang out with her and her friends for the last three nights. But then again, he thought savagely as he yanked another beer from the fridge in the kitchen, that was exactly the kind of sweet thing Natalie would do. She was so loving and eager to make everyone feel happy and comfortable. He'd have to put a stop to that at once.

He stalked grumpily back towards the study, losing all his cool along the way, back into the room where Sam was still typing away. Dean pinched his lips in displeasure at Sam's cavalier attitude. Didn't he realize that his niece might possibly be out- WITH A BOY? What the hell was wrong with him?!

Before Dean could open his mouth to start screaming undeservedly at his brother, they both heard the lock turn in the door upstairs. Natalie breezed through the heavy wooden door.

"Honey, I'm hooooooooome," she called out in a singsong voice. Sam's eyes flicked up to Dean; the smarmy look on his face clearly saying _I told you so._ Dean's gaze swung back to his daughter, dancing down the stairs. "So. What did I miss while I was out being awesome?" she said with a smirk, slightly winded from taking the stairs so fast.

"You're gonna break your ankle one of these days doing that, you know," Sam said by way of a greeting, gesturing to her flight down the metal staircase. She rolled her green eyes. _Damn Dean for teaching her that,_ Sam thought.

"You sound just like Pops," she teased back, before making a gruff face. " 'You quit runnin' down those stairs, or I'm gonna turn you inside out'," she said, doing her best Bobby impression. Sam just shook his head and grinned, which made Natalie smile, satisfied. "Have you talked to Pops lately?" she asked, now that Bobby was on the brain.

"Yeah, I called him when we got home," Dean answered quickly. He had more pressing matters to discuss. "So. Did you have fun tonight?" he said, trying to keep his voice light hearted. Natalie appeared not to notice.

"Yup. We all just hung out downtown."

"Did you all go to the café? Get milkshakes, play the jukebox, that kinda crap?" Dean pressed, needing to know if she had been with that little shit or not. Natalie turned all her attention to him then, with a very perplexed look on her face.

"Yeah. We did. And then we got back into the Delorean and time traveled out of the 1950s and back to the present," she quipped sarcastically.

"You're a laugh a minute, kid. Who was there?" Dean said, not giving a damn that he was giving her the third degree for no reason. Natalie, however, was too used to her father's overprotective side. She smiled gently and walked back to Dean.

"Okay, okay. So…..you should probably sit down," she said, trying to keep her voice calm.

"Sit down? Sit down why?"

"Because I want to tell you and Uncle Sam something."

"I don't need to sit down for you to talk."

"I know. But it would be better if you did sit."

"No way. Can't reach my gun as fast."

"And that's why I want you to sit."

"Dude- just sit down," Sam said loudly, gesturing to a chair. Dean huffed over to the spot he had vacated a moment ago, twisted the top off his beer, and started drinking. Sam looked at Natalie with a face that said _that's probably about the best you're going to get._ Natalie took a deep breath, then sat down, right next to her father- mostly so she could observe him.

"So I was out tonight with Maya and Sarah…..and Tyler," she said, watching Dean nervously. Dean just kept drinking, so she plowed on. "We were hanging out downtown, just walking around. We got French fries at the café, posted weird stuff on Instagram, you know." The bottle didn't move from Dean's lips. Natalie inhaled again, knowing she couldn't stall much longer. "And the Maya and Sarah left, so Tyler walked me home."

The bottle hit the table with an empty clank. Dean turned his full-fledged Eye towards his daughter. "And?" he growled. Natalie pressed her lips together. So typical of her dad to overreact- it was almost funny.

"And- we….kinda held hands….and he kinda…asked me to be his girlfrie-"

"You're grounded," Dean spat out before she could even finish the word. Natalie just rolled her eyes and sighed with an exasperated smile.

"Dad, nothing happened, I swear," she said consolingly.

"Doesn't matter. You're still grounded."

"For what?"

"I'll think of something."

Sam cleared his throat loudly. "So he asked you to be his girlfriend, huh?" he said, a calm smile on his face, letting his niece know he was firmly on her side. She grinned and blushed.

"Yeah, he did," she said, shyly ducking her head a bit. Sam thought it was adorable. Dean wanted to kill something.

"And what did you say?" Sam prompted. Before Dean could spit anything out about Tyler being a degenerate or the scum of the earth, Natalie quickly answered.

"I said that I liked the idea, but we haven't really gotten to know each other enough yet," she said, her eyes darting back and forth between Sam and Dean. Dean nodded savagely.

"Good. So you can let him down gently. And on an unrelated note, we're moving tomorrow," he said in a voice that was loud enough to carry to the next state.

Natalie continued as if he hadn't spoken. "So we decided to go on a date tomorrow- if that's okay with you guys," she said, finally dropping the last card hesitantly.

"Absolutely not," Dean said, violently shaking his head.

"Of course you can," Sam said at the same moment. Dean whipped around.

"Judas," he growled at his brother. Sam rolled his eyes at Dean's dramatics, but Dean narrowed his eyes at his daughter. "You know you're not allowed to date until you're sixteen," he said triumphantly, thinking that he had her cornered. Much to his surprise, Natalie nodded.

"I know. And that's what I told Tyler," she explained patiently. Dean nodded again, glad that this mess was behind them. But Natalie wasn't done. "But I thought that maybe, since you guys already know him, and if we hang out in a public place…that we could go on a chaperoned date?" she asked sweetly, her eyes dancing back and forth again.

"Absolutely not," said Dean.

"Of course you can," said Sam.

Dean shot Sam a look that could have melted iron. "I'M her father, I'LL be making those calls!" Dean shouted. Natalie placed a gentle hand on Dean's arm.

"Aw, c'mon Daddy," she cooed.

"Don't even try it, Natalie."

"Look- I know you said I can't date till I'm sixteen, which is why I told Tyler no."

"Damn straight. Now go to bed."

"But what if he and I just went to a coffee shop and just talked while you and Uncle Sam and Mitch were there too? I mean, not like right next to us or anything, but on the other side of the room where you could totally see us?" Natalie explained, wanting to be very clear about the boundaries she had in mind. It was clear she had given this a lot of thought. Dean shrugged her hand off his arm, but she wasn't taking no for an answer. She jumped up and sat on his lap, just like she used to do when she was six and wanted his undivided attention. "Please? I'll buy you a pie to eat while we're there."

"Don't try to bribe me."

"Two pies."

Dean gritted his teeth. He thought of filling Tyler with lead, tying cement shoes to the kid, figuring out a way to sell the kid's soul to Crowley. But Natalie's big, green, pleading eyes were right in front of his face, and no matter how hard he tried, her determination to break his will was taking no prisoners. Just to ensure her the win, she laid her head down on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Pleeeeeeeease?" she begged.

Dean's stoic veneer didn't crack, but through pinched lips he begrudgingly muttered. "Let me think about it."

Natalie immediately bounced up and planted a big kiss on his cheek. "Yes! Thank you, Dad, you're the best!" she squealed, slipping off his lap and skipping down the hallway to her bedroom.

"That wasn't a yes!" Dean roared after her. She only giggled in response. She knew by the time Sam got done with him, it would be. The boys heard her door close. Dean turned to Sam, who was doing a very bad job of hiding his amusement.

"That wasn't a yes," Dean said again loudly, just to emphasize it. Sam tilted his head, a knowing smirk on his face.

"Dude, come on. It's just coffee."

"She hates coffee."

"Okay. Well, coffee really isn't the point anyways."

"Exactly. That little shit head wants a piece of my Baby Girl? I don't think so."

"Dean, they're just hanging out, not getting married."

"Sam, do you remember being a boy his age? He's- what- sixteen?"

"Seventeen."

"Even worse. Do you remember what YOU were like at that age, let alone ME?"

"We're both going to be right there, and it sounds like Mitch will be, too. Tyler will have no choice but to be on his best behavior."

"Stop calling him Tyler."

"What?"

"You should be calling him a Steaming Bag of Crap. That's more appropriate."

"Don't you think you're overreacting just a bit?"

"No, Sam, I don't. My daughter isn't going out with some punk ass kid at the age of fifteen."

Sam sighed. "Dean, Natalie is being completely above board with this. When YOU were fifteen, you were skipping class and breaking into the janitor's closet so you could make out with random cheerleaders."

"That was different."

"How?"

Pause. "It just was."

"She's going to be in complete view of three of us, which isn't exactly going to be her ideal first date, and you know that. She'd probably much rather us be in the bunker and far away from her."

"Well, if she doesn't want us there, then why is she even going through this nonsense?!"

"Because she's trying to show you that she's mature and responsible enough to handle this."

"Yeah? Well, I know that I wasn't 'mature and responsible' when I was her age. Why should she be any different? She's my kid."

"But she's not you." That finally made Dean shut up. Sam was right. Natalie wasn't him. She was so much smarter, so much kinder, and so much better than he could ever hope to be. But he hated this. The idea that his little girl wasn't a little girl anymore tore at the heartstrings he sometimes pretended not to have. Milestones had always been tough for him when it came to Natalie. But hey- she hadn't gone anywhere. She still wanted him around. And the truth of Sam's words finally rang clear. She was doing this- because she wanted him to approve. She was still looking for his approval.

When you put it like that, it became just a bit easier to take.

*SPN SPN SPN*

The next evening, Natalie was fidgeting with her hair and had changed clothes at least five times. Her room was littered with what looked like the fall line from Hot Topic. Finally, she looked at herself in the mirror.

"Get a grip, moron," she said to her image, and looked down at her outfit. It was fine. It was perfectly fine. Cute top. Great shoes. Jeans that showed off her butt. It was great. She stared at it for another moment. It was all wrong.

She discarded it, wondering how on earth she had never noticed that she didn't have anything to wear up until this point in her life, when she heard the buzzer blasting at the front door to the bunker. Her heart stopped for a beat. She quickly snatched the first and original outfit and yanked it on- a cute, purple dress with a scoop neckline. She took a fast moment to appreciate the way it made her green eyes pop. She tried to smooth out the wrinkles quickly as she shoved her feet in her black flats. She HAD to make it to the door before Dean did.

She tore out of the room, but heard her father's and uncle's voices mixing with Mr. Dakari's. Dammit. She walked into the room, trying to look cool as a cucumber. As she entered, all four heads swung around to look at her. She blushed and wanted to die of embarrassment, but Tyler cleared his throat. When she looked at him, her blood rushed a little through her veins in a very pleasant way. He really looked handsome in a red button down shirt.

"Wow- you look great," he said, eyeing her outfit and her long, black hair that he had never seen down before. Natalie smiled, but then noticed the vein in Dean's neck about to pop.

"Thank you. So do you! Well- we should get going, huh? Hi Mr. Dakari!" she said brightly, hoping to distract her father from putting the kibosh on the whole thing.

Mitch smiled back at her enthusiastic nature. "Hey Natalie. Sure thing- we'll wait upstairs." He motioned for Sam to follow him. With a nod and a wink at his niece, Sam followed, making small talk with Mitch as they ascended the metal staircase.

Natalie looked nervously between Dean and Tyler. "I need to get my purse- I'll be right back," she said. Tyler just nodded and smiled. It was clear Dean had no intention of leaving the boy by himself in the room. Natalie quickly shot Dean a pleading look that said _please don't ruin this for me_ before she exited the room, practically running from the nerves and the threat of an overprotective father left alone with her first date ever.

Tyler turned and was walking towards the stairs, but Dean had other ideas. "Hey- Tyler. Wait up," he said, trying to keep his voice calm. Tyler turned to him.

"Yes, Mr. Winchester?" he said innocently. Dean gritted his teeth. So what if he was old enough to be the father of a teenager? He wasn't no "Mr. Winchester". However, he tried to recognize that the kid was being polite. He tried to recognize that that was something that should make him happy. He recognized that he didn't give a flying fuck about either fact.

He sauntered over towards the nervous boy. "Just so you know," he said casually, in his deadly calm voice that fooled no one. "That's my little girl you're about to take on a date. And also, just FYI," he said, shrugging nonchalantly and reaching into the small of his back. "I will have this trained on you for the duration of said date." He pulled his favorite silver .45 out, holding it out to the side so the kid didn't feel like Dean was going to shoot him- not yet, anyways. "So if you make one wrong move- and buddy, you best be believing I'll be watching you like a hawk- I'll light you up faster than a salt-and-burn. We understand each other?" Dean finished firmly, yet with a pleasant smile.

Poor Tyler was sweating bullets at this point, and could do nothing more than stammer. "Y-yes sir. I understand perfectly." Dean nodded, once.

"Good," he said, quickly tucking the gun into the small of his back. Just then, Natalie came tearing around the corner, clutching her purse, the panicked look still on her face. Dean smiled hugely at her.

"Let's go!" he said, chipper as a squirrel in spring.

*SPN SPN SPN*

When they got to the coffee shop, and the kids had ordered, with Tyler paying for Natalie, the men sat on the other side of the room in order to give their kids their privacy. Tyler and Natalie talked and laughed, trading hunting stories alongside typical teenage woes.

At one point, Natalie's hand was casually resting on the table. Tyler felt the urge to reach out and take it. He suddenly remembered Dean's words. He surreptitiously glanced over at the table of their fathers. Mitch and Sam were animatedly discussing something. It was obvious that both Mitch and Sam were perfectly content to let the two of them be, but Dean was staring straight at him. With a pleasant nod and a bob of his eyebrow, Dean made sure Tyler understood that he hadn't so much as blinked all night. He saw the tiniest glint of silver under the table.

Tyler quickly withdrew his hand.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Later that night, after the Dakaris had dropped the Winchesters back off at the bunker, Natalie practically skipped down the stairs, so on cloud nine was she.

"So I take it that meant you had a good time?" Sam said in a teasing voice as he shrugged off his jacket.

"You were there to watch the whole thing- what do you think?" she answered playfully. Sam chuckled at the barely-contained giddiness. He loved seeing her this happy. "Good night, Uncle Sam. Thank you- you're the best," she gushed. With a squeeze goodnight to his niece and a smile on his face, Sam headed off towards his room.

Natalie turned to Dean. "So- thanks for being so cool back there," she said, tilting her head to the side in that way that he couldn't resist. He smiled.

"S'what I do," he said, shrugging it off nonchalantly. Natalie blurted a laugh.

"Yeah. Yesterday you were ready to chain me to the wall for even thinking about a boy. What changed?"

"I just realized that Tyler was a smart kid who knew better than to mess with something he couldn't handle."

Natalie tried to puzzle that one out, before giving up in order to continue basking in her post-sort-of-first-date bliss. She turned on her heel and started prancing towards the kitchen. Confused, Dean called out after her.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I said I'd get you two pies if you let me go out with Tyler. Gotta keep my end of the bargain," came the answer from down the hall, followed by a giggle.

Dean trotted down the hall after his Baby Girl. Hell, if letting her go out with boys got him pie, maybe he'd let her do it again. Next decade. He could use the target practice.


	56. If I Could Hold Back the Rain

**Hey Hey Hey Beautiful! Yup, talking to you. How's your day going?**

 **Surprise! Another chapter! Hee hee. This one is pretty special to me. It was inspired by a question from the wonderful delacre (who, by the way, is a phenomenal writer herself), about the moment where Dean decided to let Natalie hunt. It was such an intense question for me that I begged for longer than usual to come up with the answer, and I selfishly took that time. So thank you, delacre, for making me look this in the face and finding an even deeper understanding of Dean and Natalie's relationship than I had before. I am in your debt.**

 **Truth be told, I'm in debt to all of you for your likes, reviews, follows- everything. Love you all so much. Love and thanks to Jenmm31, who keeps pushing me to be better and better. Have a wonderful weekend, you wonderful people!**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is 14. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

"You sure you're okay?" Dean pressed, looking deep into his daughter's eyes. The eyes that were the bright emerald green of his own. The eyes that he knew he couldn't live without. The eyes that were currently rolling at him.

"Yes, Dad, for the millionth time, I'm fine," Natalie said, the irritation plain in her voice. Dean sat back as she adjusted herself on the pillows. He pursed his lips together. He wasn't particularly happy with her answer, but he knew that if he asked her again, she'd probably punch him in the arm, and he didn't want her exerting herself.

The three of them had been on a hunt, tracking down a shape shifter who had developed a nasty habit of luring young women to their deaths by pretending to be a rich executive just looking for love at a bar. Dean hadn't wanted to take his fourteen year old daughter on the mission specifically because of this, but between her determination and Sam's quiet guidance, he had begrudgingly relented- mostly because he didn't want to deal with a furious Natalie.

When they finally cornered the shape shifter in the bowels of the sewer underneath the bar it frequented, it was hopelessly outnumbered. But it went down swinging. Sam had bruised ribs and a sprained ankle, Dean had dislocated a shoulder, and Natalie had gotten a deep cut on the right side of her thigh. They had finally taken the monster down and headed back to the motel around 1 a.m. Natalie had never gotten such a deep cut before, so Dean wanted to do them himself to help keep her from panicking. He knew his kid- she was putting up the tough guy front, but she hated needles. Didn't matter what they were for- she flat out hated them. The more stitches she had to have, the more anxiety ridden she was going to be. And this one was going to be a doozy.

Dean made her lay down on his bed the moment they got back to the run-down motel. Sam quickly popped Dean's shoulder back into place, and after he was done cursing someone's mother, he threaded the needle to take care of his daughter. He had made her talk to him while he worked, trying to keep her focused on her words and thoughts instead of the fact that he was sewing her leg back together. He started quizzing her on lore, on her favorite movies, anything to keep her distracted. He had gotten about three quarters of the way through, when she suddenly slumped back on the bed, completely unconscious. Both Dean and Sam panicked for a moment until they realized that she had just passed out from the anxiety rather than blood loss or something else. Sam had sponged her forehead with a wet towel, while Dean took advantage of her loss of consciousness and quickly finished the job. The second he had clipped the string of the stitch, he reached up and gently started patting her cheek to bring her back around.

The fluttering of her eyelids caused him to sigh in relief as she groggily came to. They both helped her to sit up against the headboard. Sam insisted on making her sip water while he checked her pupils and her pulse. After about two solid minutes of them fussing over her, she finally pushed them both away, irritated with her personal space being so invaded.

"Geez, if I wanted someone to be this awkwardly close to me, I'da called Cass," she grumbled. Sam just snickered, taking the now empty cup from her hands. If she could be that sarcastic, she was definitely feeling better. Dean, however, continued to hover, checking her bandage unnecessarily, trying to look into her eyes to see for himself if she had a concussion or not. Natalie turned her head to the side, embarrassed by the scrutiny.

"Dad, c'mon man," she muttered.

"Kiddo, you just passed out. I know it was just because you're scared of needles…"

"I am NOT scared of them."

"So you wanna tell me why you just pulled a film noir worthy fainting act then?"

She rewarded him with a typical teenaged scoff and eye roll. He then had to hold in a chuckle while she struggled to come up with a witty retort. After a few moments of stammering, she finally spoke with a clear pout in her voice. "Shut up."

"Great comeback, kiddo. We'll put that one up on the refrigerator." Before she could get all worked up over his teasing, though, he patted her good leg and stood up, gathering the med kit. "Alright. Now you're staying down for the rest of the night."

"I'm fi-"

"And before you even finish that sentence, I'm not takin' no for an answer. What's the rule on the field?"

"The Commanding Officer is God," she said grumpily. He nodded once.

"Damn straight. So follow your commanding officer and stay down."

"Yes, sir," she said, the fight going out of her. It wasn't that she was wanting to fight against Dean per se- she was just embarrassed about fainting, so she was trying to put up her tough exterior. It actually felt nice to just relax after such a grueling fight. She kicked her shoes off the edge of the bed. "Can I at least move over to my bed?" she asked.

Dean shook his head. "You stay there tonight. I'll sleep on the couch." He watched as the argument against that crossed her face, but then she thought better of it. _Wise choice, kiddo,_ he thought, turning back towards the gear to toss the med kit inside. He washed his hands at the sink, removing all traces of grime and gore from them. However, something clicked this time- something that had never clicked before. From stitching her up, Natalie's blood was mixed in with all the dirt and muck on his hands. Natalie's blood. His baby's blood was literally on his hands.

When he looked down and realized that he was washing his daughter's blood off, mixed in with the suds that were going down the drain, he froze. The faucet continued to run, clearing away all traces of anything, but he continued to stare at the swirling water as if his life depended on it.

"Hey, Dean. You okay?" Sam said suddenly. That snapped Dean back to life. He shook his head once, trying to rip his gaze away from the sink.

"Y-yeah. Yeah. I'm fine," he stammered out. He shook himself and snatched a hand towel off the bar next to the sink, forcing himself to turn away under the pretense of drying his hands. "How are the ribs?" he asked his brother in his gruff tone, eager to fill his mind with anything but the image currently running amok in his head.

Sam shrugged with one shoulder. "Hurts like hell, but they'll be better come morning. You want something for that shoulder?"

"Wouldn't mind some liquid libation, but I'm pretty sure we're dry right now and I'm not leaving her to go restock," Dean said stubbornly, jutting his chin in the direction of his kid. Sam smiled gently.

"Dean," he said. Dean met his gaze, then Sam tilted his head back towards Dean's bed. Dean looked over. Natalie was fast asleep, sprawled out on top of the bed, just like she used to do when she was a little kid. Dean's mouth dropped open in shock as Sam chuckled.

"Looks like the piss and vinegar ran out," he commented with a grin.

Dean shook his head- a mixture of amusement and annoyance. "That kid. She grinds until she's sharp as a sword, but then it takes its toll once the adrenaline wears out." He turned a joking smile to Sam. "Should've taken her on hunts much earlier. We wouldn't have had to endure all the bedtime tantrums as a baby."

Sam snorted a laugh before speaking again. "Look, man. Why don't you go out and grab a cold one? I'll keep an eye on her."

Dean rolled his shoulders back on reflex, before remembering his injury and hissing in pain. Once the wave of agony passed, he turned his face to Sam. "What makes you think I'm that I'm that desperate for a drink?"

Sam smirked. He didn't think that Dean would appreciate being called a borderline alcoholic, so he used different phrasing. "Dude- I know you. I know that look. Just run out, blow off some steam, toss a couple back, and get whatever it is off your mind." Before Dean could even inhale to say it, Sam interrupted. "I'll keep an eye on her. She'll be fine. She's not getting up anytime soon." Dean knew that was the truth. Once Natalie was actually in dreamland, she didn't wake up for nothing until her body woke her up. He wondered if he was really that transparent, or if Sam just knew him even better than Dean gave him credit for.

Reaching up to rub his aching shoulder joint, Dean hemmed and hawed, but finally relented. "Okay, fine. But if she gets up at all, and I mean for anything, you call me. Got it?"

"Got it."

"I mean if she sneezes in her sleep, I wanna know about it, you hear me?"

"Dean. Just go."

*SPN SPN SPN*

Twenty minutes later, Dean was sitting at the end of a bar that had seen better days. The varnish was worn out, leaving more raw wood than shiny from years of people slamming beer bottles and glasses down on it. It had been scratched quite a few times, both on accident and on purpose. Dean ran his finger absentmindedly along the initials GG carved on top. He supposed he should wonder who GG was, or had been, but he didn't really feel like devoting his brainpower to that at the moment. The grimy mirror behind the bar reflected the rest of the dismal atmosphere. It was a place trying hard to be cool and relevant, but it was just kind of sad. Even the neon glow of the Michelob sign had faded to a tired red. From his vantage point at the end of the bar facing the door, Dean observed everyone in the mirror that bordered the backwall behind the bar. The typical table of younger guys, trying to get drunk to forget they were out alone on a Friday night, the grizzled older guys playing pool on a worn out table, the much-too-old-to-be-wearing-that-outfit chick with the cigarette dangling from her lips watching them play pool- classic. But Dean wasn't here to people watch. He needed to think.

As if the atmosphere itself knew that Dean was here to puzzle through what was bothering him and was bound and determined to prevent that from happening, a young buxom blonde sauntered her way over towards him, perching herself on a barstool two down from him. She rested her elbow on the bar and arched her back, not even trying to pretend to be coy. "Hey sweet cheeks," she purred in Dean's direction.

Normally, that would have made Dean's downstairs brain sit up and beg- literally. But he had more pressing things on his mind tonight- he didn't want to be distracted by anything or anyone. He didn't want to be outright rude, however. "Hi," he commented back dryly, turning his attention back to his whiskey.

Apparently, she didn't get the message. "So what's a tall drink of water like you doing out alone on a night like tonight?" she drawled, trying unsuccessfully to drunkenly wink at him.

 _Trying to keep away from lines like that,_ Dean thought. But once again, miraculously, his brain to mouth filter was actually working. "Just drinking. Got a lot on my mind tonight," he commented without any real inflection, hoping that she would take the hint.

She didn't. "Thinking is for people who don't know how to have a good time." She eyed him up and down. "I bet YOU know how to have a good time."

Dean smiled into his tumbler as he took another slug and looked down. Why didn't this ever happen to him when he WANTED it to? "Not tonight, I don't," he said, catching the barkeep's attention and pointing to his empty glass.

"Come on, sweetheart. You only live once."

Pausing for a moment to reflect on the irony of that statement, Dean chuckled low. "Guess I'll have to take my chances then. Have a good evening." The blonde huffed away without so much as a second glance. He didn't even want to watch her walk away. He just wanted to think.

As the barman was refilling Dean's rocks glass, he glanced over his shoulder at the retreating floozy. "She giving you problems, man?"

"Naw, she didn't mean any harm. Probably would've taken her up on her offer any other night, but not tonight."

"Fair enough," said the barman, walking back towards the register to put another round on Dean's tab. Dean rolled the glass back and forth in his hands for a moment before drinking. He hadn't been lying- he had a lot on his mind. And he wanted- finally- to deal with it.

The image of Natalie's blood going down the drain with the dirty water and the soap burst back into the forefront of his mind. Instead of pushing it away, he made himself remember it. He took a slow sip of his whiskey as he made himself really think about that image.

 _This is it. This is what you're in for. This is what's going to happen if you let her become a Hunter._

Since the moment she had understood what hunting was, Natalie's fondest dream and deepest desire had been to join the hunting world- to join the family business. She knew what angels were before she could properly talk. A freaking angel had been her favorite babysitter, for crap's sake. She had done an exorcism at the age of eight, after accidentally summoning the demon in the first place. She made her first kill at 12. She had been on countless salt and burns. She had helped them get rid of the Loa spirit when they were in New Orleans. She had cracked the case of the Bell of Osiris that had nearly gotten them all killed. She was invaluable to the team- just as much a part of Team Free Will as any of them. So what was different now?

 _She got hurt. That's what's different._

Ever since 7:47 am on April 24th, 2010, Dean's life revolved around one fact- don't let Natalie get hurt. Don't let bad things happen to her. Save her. Protect her. Whatever it took, he was going to do it. He had always known in the back of his mind that if she was going to become a hunter, she would get hurt. He had been able to keep it pushed into the deepest recesses of his mind, only dealing with it in small doses, and only when absolutely necessary. But seeing his daughter's blood on his own hands blew that dark box of deep and painful thoughts wide open and shoved its contents in his face.

She'd been through pain before. She'd gotten thrown against a wall in a shock wave, been tortured at the hands of the goddess Hera and her pathetic henchman, been chased by a werewolf, she'd been locked in a panic room. She'd been through the wringer before. She'd even had stitches. _But not from hunting._

Dean took another swallow of whiskey. It burned its way down his throat, helping to calm his frazzled nerves. He hated thinking about stuff like this. But it had to be done. All part of being a father.

 _Well, no. No it's not. Most fathers don't have to figure out if they're going to let their daughters put themselves in positions that could kill them on a daily basis. Wonder if Dr. Phil wrote a book about that._

Tracing his finger around the rim of the glass, he wondered if he was doing the right thing. He had been adamant that Natalie should be with him at all times since the moment she'd been born. He had always insisted that he would have never brought a child knowingly into this life, but the second the ramifications of NOT keeping her with him hit home, he was unwavering in his conviction to keep her at his side. Keeping her at his side meant keeping her safe, in his mind. Educating her about what really went bump in the night. God knows there were enough "bumps" that were gunning for Winchester blood- and the poor kid was full of it. If something ever happened to him- like it had to his father, his mother, Jo, Ellen, Ash, countless friends- he didn't want her unable to defend herself. He needed to know that she knew how to fight back- to keep herself alive. Because he couldn't live without her. And with that fact staring him in the face, a truth came to the forefront of his mind. A truth that he had never thought of before.

 _That's why Dad did what he did. It was to keep us safe. It started out as revenge, and it stayed revenge. But- instead of dumping us at Bobby's or Pastor Jim's forever, he kept us close. Well- sort of._

The undeniable fact that John Winchester had been somewhat of a neglectful father washed over Dean in an irrefutable way. Yes, he had taught both Sam and Dean everything he could about hunting, and taught them how to keep going in his absence. But he had left them alone for long periods of time, too. Poor Sam had been left for considerable lengths of time, completely alone. Dean had sworn to himself that he would never do that to his daughter.

But neither could he take her on every hunt- especially when she was younger. They had been careful to leave her with good babysitters- except for that one time. Dean still kicked himself over missing the signs that had been there, but now wasn't the time to deal with that. He HAD left her alone. But not like John had done to them. Dean came home every night. She had been close enough that he saw her every day.

The year that they spent apart while she tried public school had been devastating to them both. He had no idea how she made it through that year at the age of 6, when he, having been 38 at the time, had barely been able to function. She was such a part of him, his own mini-me, his own minion, literally the flesh of his flesh, that he had felt sawed in half for the entire year. He had had nightmares about what was happening to her; about monsters and creatures coming to get her that he was powerless to stop. He was distracted- nearly getting himself killed on a hunt one time while he was fuming about the fact that he hadn't been the one to teach her to tie her shoes. He felt empty- like someone had taken his essence.

But nothing had happened. She had been fine- until Crowley came to call. That bastard had waltzed in to Bobby's house, expecting to reap her soul. But she had one upped him, planting her Weeboks in his gonads. Dean grinned, remembering that sweet moment, before the memory turned sour. Crowley wouldn't have come for her if they hadn't been there with her at that moment.

 _Or would he have? Would Crowley still have attacked, knowing that Dean had been right there? Of course he would. He did._

Dean knew nothing was beneath the King of Hell. That weasel had every ace up his sleeve anyone could possibly imagine. Whether or not the boys had been there, Crowley would have come for her. It wasn't necessarily a happy thought, but one that let Dean release a bit of the guilt he was feeling. Natalie had handled Crowley like a boss. For being all of six at the time, she held herself better than most full grown hunters Dean knew. She had stayed calm, remembering her training, and not falling apart until it was all over- in true Winchester style. She was a born hunter.

But that also meant she was going to get hurt. This wound that she had received tonight was going to be the first of many, many stitches and contusions and breaks that she would have to endure if she stayed on this path. Having to really realize that and come to terms with it made Dean immediately throw the rest of his drink down his throat. He waved to the bartender for another.

Okay. So she was going to get hurt. All part of the job. She was going to have to endure needles again. He knew that she was playing tough- that she fainted because she hated needles, no matter how much she lied about it. But he also knew that if he were to bring that fact up to her- that tonight was going to be the first of many homemade stitches- she'd wave him off, determined that nothing was going to keep her from hunting.

She was stubborn. So stubborn, in fact, that she routinely surprised him with her antics. She was bound and determined to be the best hunter in the world, often outstripping him and Sam when it came to research. How she could make that computer sit up and beg for her, he didn't know. She was a walking encyclopedia of lore. She and Sam would wax poetic for hours about the origins of this particular species of monsters, but when he would break in with his gruff "Just tell me how you kill it", she always had the answer. She was smart. He didn't know where she got that from either. It was clear that she was the happiest when she was helping them with a hunt, whether that was research, or digging, or starting a fire- a particular favorite of hers- or whatever. She was in her element.

He loved watching her eyes light up at each new bit of information she gleaned from all her research. He watched as she suffered right alongside their victims, her empathy stretching far beyond the limits of his and sometimes even Sam's. He watched her calculate and think far beyond her years. He watched her become a strong, independent woman. And that was what he wanted. Right? Wasn't that what all fathers were supposed to want for their daughters; for them to become strong, independent women?

 _If she does this, she can handle it. I know she can. She's the best damn thing in this world._

 _So can I let her go? Can I let her go to do this?_

Ah. The question he had struggled with for years. When she was younger, he had been terrified that she was going to reject hunting and beg to live a normal life- away from him. When he saw that she wanted to embrace it, he became terrified that she was going to change her mind, want to track down her mother and go live her with. When Natalie dismissed that idea without a second thought, the only thing he had left to be terrified of was losing her to the lifestyle.

It would be years before she would leave him as an adult- well, four years anyway. And that was assuming that she'd want to leave. Dean had wrongly convinced himself that she was going to leave him the moment she could when she was younger, and, as he had just remembered, he had been wrong then. Maybe he was wrong about this now. Maybe she'd stay with him. But what if she didn't want to? Was he strong enough to let her go? He sat, staring into the honey colored liquid, watching the light refract through the crystal of the glass, as he struggled with the question. Finally the answer came forth.

 _Yes. Yes, if the day came where she wanted to leave, I could let her. I'm strong enough to do that. Because SHE makes me strong. If it makes her happy, that's all the strength I'll need._

The moment he accepted that, he felt as if his insides turned to jelly. The idea of living without her broke him. But if it was what she wanted, he was going to do that. He swore to her that he was going to be her hero. Sometimes heroes had to give up the thing that made them the most happy. That's what was required of heroes sometimes.

 _You know that won't happen._

Dean sat bolt upright. He had been having a conversation with his conscious all night. But that last statement was new. He had never thought that before. He had never given up the terror before- never consciously decided to let her do what made her happy, even if it meant breaking his own heart. Finally making that conscious choice had cracked the shell of something inside. A truth that he had never let himself believe.

 _She needs you. Just as much as you need her. Yes, she can do it all on her own. Yes, she's strong and independent. So are you. You could've hunted for your dad all on your own. But you didn't want to. You pulled Sam up from the bench- because you needed him. And do you really not remember just how alike you and your daughter are?_

Dean sat, stunned by his own thoughts. He hadn't considered that. Getting Sam from Stanford seemed like a lifetime ago. Telling him that dad was on a hunting trip and hadn't been home in a couple days- it was like trying to remember a rerun. But it was true. Sam had even called him out on it, saying that Dean didn't need him, and he'd been honest that even though he could have, he just didn't want to do it alone.

Natalie was like him in so many ways. It was like they had copied his soul and dropped it into a five foot one girl- with an extra dose of sass and stubbornness, just to keep him on his toes. Now that he was being honest with himself, he realized that he always knew that she was never going to leave him. Because she didn't want to.

That realization made Dean's heart soar. He wasn't letting her go- he was letting her choose. He was just lucky that she would make the choice that wouldn't break him.

Abandoning the almost full third glass, he tossed some money down on the bar and practically vaulted off the barstool. He wanted to go home. He wanted to see her and his little brother. He wanted to really appreciate the family he had while he was in the midst of this newfound revelation.

He was barely buzzed, so he only felt a little guilty slipping behind Baby's wheel. His tolerance level was so high, he probably could have pounded that third one and been fine. But having a kid made you think of things like this. Not for the first time in the last fourteen years did Dean shake his head, chuckling that he was having these thoughts.

But it felt different this time. Something was at peace within him. Something that had never been at peace in fourteen years. And he was happy about it.

Upon getting back to the motel, he quietly opened the door. Sammy was fast asleep, an ice pack melting on his shirt where he'd been holding it against his bruised ribs. He must have fallen asleep before he could have discarded it. Natalie was still out cold in the exact same sprawled out position as before.

A wave of affection washed over Dean- so powerful, it nearly knocked him off his feet. He walked over and removed the melting pack from his baby brother's side, and gently smoothed the hair of his baby girl.

"Rest up, Team Free Will. Tomorrow, we've got some family business to take care of."


	57. Our Little Secret

**Happy Sunday, you beautiful SPN Family you!**

 **Thank you sooooooooo much for all the reads, reviews, follows. You guys are absolutely incredible. Please know that I try to respond to each and every review. If you're a guest, I can't private message you, but I'll try to answer requests here, lol.**

 **I had a request for the most trouble Natalie's ever gotten into. I've already actually written those chapters- check out Bury the Sunlight and then my other story, Sweet Child of Mine (my first venture into Natalie world, ha ha). BUT I really don't let her cause that much mischief- so I'm going to amend that slightly (insert evil laugh). I'll play around with Natalie getting into trouble when I start some new stuff, I promise! Right now, I'm working on some new case stories- I plan to make one of the cases the next chapter.**

 **This chapter, however, is for happygoddess2003. She's been a great support, and a huge fan of the Sam/Natalie relationship. She's helped me to think about their bond and pay more attention to it. And when I did, this story wrote itself. Thank you happygoddess2003!**

 **The biggest thank you to my dear friend Jenmm31. For everyone who's made me think in depth about Natalie's relationships with all our favorite people, she's been the one to actually help me develop it. I owe her the world :)**

 **Love you people! Go love each other!**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is 9. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

The terrific crash that came from the living room shook the entire house. Dean had been sitting at the kitchen table, cleaning the barrel of his favorite silver .45. He jumped at the loud noise, and had a moment to reflect on the fact that he was incredibly grateful that the gun hadn't been loaded at the time. But he didn't have a chance to take more than a fleeting moment of gratitude at that fact. Because he knew that his nine-year-old daughter, Natalie, had been working in the room where the crash had just occurred.

He slammed the gun down onto the table and took off towards the room, all manner of terrible things running through his head and utterly panicking. Just as he rounded the corner to the living room, Bobby came tearing down the stairs, landing just in front of him. He had been in his room upstairs, organizing his own personal files. The crash had scared the living crap out of him too, and he had gone running out of his room to investigate. Both men entered the room to see one of Bobby's bookshelves tilted forward at a dangerous and awkward angle, and what appears to be a squirming pile of books and papers with a small foot sticking out of it on the floor.

"Natalie!" Dean hollered. Even though she was clearly moving underneath all the detritus, he still needed to hear her voice.

" 'Mokay," came the muffled, quiet answer. Bobby and Dean began pulling the vast amounts of lore books and old newspapers off the child. Bobby reached her first, and managed to haul her out of there by the arm. Even though she was nine, she was still very small for her age- it was easy for him to pull her out of the pile, and set her a bit away from it to examine her for injuries.

"Are you okay?" Bobby said, his voice laced with panic. Natalie gulped and nodded, looking down at the pile of heavy books he had just pulled her out of. At seeing the nod, Dean sighed in relief. Natalie, breathing heavily from the tumble, knew that Bobby wanted her to answer him verbally.

"Yeah- yeah, Pops, I'm okay," she mumbled back. Instantly, the panic in Bobby's eyes turned to fury. He latched onto her upper arm and dragged her closer to him, right in front of his face. At the sudden jerk on her arm, Natalie's eyes got wide and a bit fearful as she saw the angry look on her adopted grandfather's face.

"Were you climbing on them shelves again?" Bobby growled at her in his low, dangerous tone. At that, Dean watched Natalie's face drain of its color. Her eyes darted around the room nervously, and she mumbled something incoherent. Bobby, however, wasn't having any of it.

"Answer me, young lady. Were you climbing on the shelves again?!" Bobby roared at her, his tone forceful and loud, as he jerked her arm again, waiting for a response. Natalie seemed to shrink in on herself, but she knew she better answer up.

"Yes, sir," she mumbled miserably. Without missing a beat, Bobby whipped her around and planted a stinging smack on her backside. Before she could do more than let out a tiny yelp of pain, and Dean could do more than say "Hey!" Bobby spun her around again, and pulled her back in, close in to his face.

"How many times have I told you to stay off them shelves? Huh? How many times, Natalie?" he yelled. Natalie bit her lip to keep the tears from spilling out of her eyes. It had been an accident- she hadn't ever caused the bookshelves to collapse before when she'd climbed up on them, even though she wasn't supposed to. But before she could answer him again, Dean finally found his tongue and spoke up.

"Hang on- he's had to tell you MULTIPLE times?" he asked his daughter, his eyes narrowing dangerously. The little amount of color left in Natalie's face drained completely as her eyes shifted to her father. She knew that now Dean was pissed too. He was adamant about her obeying Bobby just like she did Sam and himself. To know that she had disobeyed multiple times did not bode well for her.

Not done with her yet, Bobby shook her arm again, causing her focus to snap back to him. "Why were you up there? Huh? What made you think climbin' on them shelves was okay?" he demanded.

She gulped again and tried to answer calmly, but between the embarrassment, the pain in her arm from Bobby's grip, and the sting of the smack, the tears threatened to spill out. She inhaled sharply and tried again to speak. "There was…..there was a book that I needed on the top shelf- "

"And you wanna tell me why you didn't get one of us to get it for you?"

"You were upstairs working, and Dad-" her eyes swung back to Dean. "I didn't want to bother you-"

"So instead," Dean interrupted, his blood starting to boil. "You chose to disobey Bobby and climb on those shelves that you've been repeatedly told not to? That about the size of it?"

Natalie fidgeted, her scared gaze darting between Dean and Bobby. "Well- you were busy?" she offered, knowing in her heart of hearts it wouldn't hold up.

Bobby pulled her in even closer. "That ain't gonna fly and you know it. Natalie Grace Winchester, you are nine years old. You know damn well that you are NOT to get up on those shelves."

"But-"

"Do not interrupt him, little girl," Dean said loudly.

"But nothing," Bobby said, shaking her arm again as if Dean hadn't spoken. A little whimper wanted to escape her lips, but she held it back with all her might. "Here you are, acting like a baby who don't know any better. You want us to start treating you that way? Huh? Like a little baby who can't follow the rules?"

"No, sir."

"Then you leave off this foolishness from now on. You hear me?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." He finally released the grip on her arm. She immediately reached back to rub her backside. For an old man, he still had a damn strong swing. "Now you are gonna clean all this up," he declared, gesturing to the wasteland that was now in his living room. "You put back every book and paper on those shelves, up until the shelves that you can't reach without help. You got it?"

"Yes, sir," she mumbled, her hands dropping to her sides now that she had rubbed all the stinging out.

"You put those top shelf books on the desk in the order they're supposed to go, and then one of us will put them back up." He leaned down into her face again. "And so help me- if I EVER catch you up on them shelves again, you're going one on one with my wooden spoon. Got it?"

"Yes, sir." Her voice came out in a tiny squeak. He had swatted her a few times with his wooden spoon when she was younger and had really acted up. It was not an experience she was anxious to repeat. Bobby nodded once in acceptance of her acquiescence. He looked over at Dean.

"She's all yours," he said gruffly to the younger man. Natalie's eyes darted in panic over to her father. He was about to start in on her now?

*SPN SPN SPN*

After an ear blistering lecture that left her feeling both guilty and angry, Natalie was cleaning up the epic mess of books and papers and only God knows what else. It had been an accident, but Dean didn't seem to see it that way, and he wasn't about to let her explain that. As she cleaned, the unfairness of not being able to tell her side was making her more and more frustrated. She was grinding her back teeth together in frustration by the time Sam came in to the living room. She had about half the room cleared at that point, but the mess was still formidable. Sam stopped short and took it all in.

"Whoa," he muttered quietly. "What happened in here?"

Natalie straightened up with a frustrated expulsion of air. "I accidentally knocked over the book case, so Pops and Dad are making me put everything back." The tone came out a little more forced than was usually safe. She instantly panicked, and prayed that Sam wasn't going to start immediately scolding her like both Dean and Bobby had done.

"Are you okay?" he blurted out, his eyes running up and down his niece, looking for injuries. Those three simple words made tears spring instantly to her eyes. Sam was the only one who was more concerned with her wellbeing than the fact that she had just knocked over a bookshelf- at least, in her mind anyways. But she wasn't one to cry- no way. She sniffed those traitorous tears back and nodded.

"Thank you for asking," she said pointedly, causing Sam to look at her with a curious glance. "I'm okay. Just have to clean up all this crap," she said, looking around the room at the pile that seemed never ending. But before Sam could respond, Dean's voice came cracking in from the other room.

"Sammy, don't you dare help her, or I'll double her punishment," Dean barked out. Sam's eyes quickly flicked back to Natalie, whose face had gone red listening to Dean's words. She whipped back around so Sam couldn't see her, and continued gathering the books, shoving them forcefully back into place. Sam knew better than to call Dean's bluff, but he felt awful leaving her there. It was clear she didn't want to talk, though. He wasn't used to seeing this side of her, and didn't really know how to proceed.

"I'll, uh- I'll just be upstairs if you need me. Okay, Bug?" he said gently.

"Yup," she said briskly. She immediately felt bad over being so clipped with him, but she knew if she said anything more than that, she'd start crying, and that was completely against her own personal law. Sam nodded and went up the stairs to his bedroom as she continued cleaning the colossal mess she had created.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Over an hour later, she shoved her chair back from the small desk in her room, rubbing her stinging eyes. Between the dust that had fallen along with all the books, staring at her computer, and the massive amounts of reading she was doing to finish this stupid book report that had caused all the trouble in the first place, Natalie felt like her eyes were going to fall out. She looked down at her laptop- she really only needed to finish the conclusion, and she could call this thing wrapped. But she felt like she was running on empty. Her brain was tired. She was still a bit resentful and sore from her tumble this afternoon as well, and it was making her cranky. Not to mention, Dean had confined her to her room to finish her homework instead of letting her work on it in the study like she had been. She felt trapped, stifled, and isolated. She did NOT like this feeling.

Before she could really register what she was doing, she found herself on her feet and halfway down the stairs. Maybe a breath of fresh air would help clear her head, and then she could finish off this dumb report and be done with it. But just as her hand touched the doorknob downstairs to sweet, sweet freedom, someone cleared their throat behind her. She turned around to see Dean standing in the middle of the living room, his arms crossed.

"And just where do you think you're going?" he asked lightly, but Natalie knew her father too well to know that his query was anything but casual. She tried to answer back in her own light tone.

"Just outside for a second. I'm dying up there," she said, jerking her head towards her room upstairs.

Apparently, though, Dean didn't give a damn that she was dying. "You finish your homework yet?" he replied. Natalie's gaze quickly darted around the room. She should have seen this coming. Knowing that there was no way out, she tried the puppy eyes again.

"It's so close, Dad, I swear. I just need-"

"If it's so close, then go finish it. Then you can go outside."

"Please? I just need like two seconds!"

"You get some kind of memo that the rules changed around here? Cause I didn't."

"No, I know, but…"

"No buts. Upstairs."

"Dad!"

"March," he commanded. Natalie clenched her teeth together, and as she turned on her heel to stomp back up the stairs, she inadvertently let out a closed-mouth scream of frustration. Before she even blinked, however, Dean barked, furiously displeased at her tone.

"HEY!" he roared, making her jump. She turned back towards him quickly- just in time to see the smoke start pouring from his nostrils and the vein in his neck to start throbbing. She realized- to her horror- that that little angry yell had been a lot louder and more disrespectful than she had intended. All the frustration and fight drained out of her instantly. A Pissed Off Dean Winchester would do that to you.

"Get over here, NOW," he hissed, pointing to his feet. Natalie froze for a split second, before trying the worst idea possible.

"Dad, I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"I SAID NOW."

Once again, before she really realized her brain had given her feet the signal to move, she found herself standing before Dean, hands clenched and twisting nervously behind her back. As much as it scared her, she knew she had to look Dean right in the eye, or it would go so much worse for her. Not that things weren't already pretty damn bad.

"It seems you're having a problem doing what you're told," Dean said in his low, dangerous voice. "Bobby told you to stay off the shelves, I told you to finish your homework. You not able to hear all of the sudden?" His eyes narrowed dangerously. She swallowed hard.

"No, sir."

"So you're just hell bent on gettin' yourself in a lot of trouble today. That it?"

"I'm sorry. I…I didn't mean to be disrespectful. I was trying to go back upstairs when…."

"No, you were being defiant instead of disrespectful. You know damn well that what I say goes, and you know my rule about homework. You just decided to disregard the rules because you wanted to."

"I just needed to be outside for a minute, then I was gonna go back! I swear!"

"Missin' the point, kid. What's the rule for homework?"

"It was only gonna be a minute!"

"NATALIE. This is that 'not doing what you're told' thing rearing its head again, right off the bat. You really wanna carry on like this, little girl?"

Natalie fidgeted and dropped her gaze to her shoes. "No, sir."

"So you wanna try this whole thing again?"

"I'm sorry I didn't follow through on the 'homework first' rule," she said limply, the fight going out of her. It was taking her longer and longer these days to get here. Back when she was a kid, it didn't take much before she would just up and punish herself for misbehaving. But these days, she felt like she had pretty good arguments about why she chose to do things. Too bad Dean wasn't willing to hear them.

"Yeah. And you're sorry that you climbed on shelves and got yourself almost killed and stuck up in your room working on the homework you should have finished already." Natalie shifted her weight. It was true, but did he really need to bring that up? She felt the tiny flicker of anger ignite in her again. She didn't like it, but she didn't know how to extinguish it. So she just stood there, taking the rest of Dean's scolding, before he sent her back to her room with the promise that if she came down again before her homework was done, she'd never step foot outside again.

From the quiet of his room, Sam couldn't quite tune out the scolding that poor Natalie was having to endure again.

*SPN SPN SPN*

A grueling half hour later, she slammed the lid to her laptop closed, having just sent her report on the best ways to kill rougaroos to Dean via email. It had taken everything in her power not to put some snarky, sarcastic title to the email. But she was desperate to get outside, and that move would have gotten her locked in the panic room pretty much until she graduated.

She quickly brushed her hair back from her face, mentally going over her homework checklist. She knew if she had forgotten even the slightest thing, Dean would have been all over her, as pissed off as he was right now. Finally, she was satisfied that she had gotten it all, so she started creeping down the stairs. Even though she was done, she still didn't want to see or hear Dean or Bobby right now. She yanked the door open, but was careful to shut it quietly.

Once the fresh air and sunshine hit her face, however, she instantly felt better. She was still pissed, but she was more in control of it now than she had been a moment ago. She took off running for her favorite spot in the junkyard- the one that only she knew about.

It was towards the back, near the fence. Back in the place that Natalie called the Land of Forgotten Cars. It seemed like they were all hunks of junk that had been left here to die. Piles upon piles of rusting car parts, and even crunched and flattened frames stacked up, left to bake in the sun and rust in the rain. Natalie had often wondered why Bobby didn't just up and get rid of it all, but today she didn't care. She glanced quickly behind her as she turned the corner towards the towers of discarded automobiles. She ran right up to the base of the tower- an old Plymouth that had apparently been a Sherman Tank in another life. She glanced around quickly again to make sure that no one was watching. Good. Boy, would she get in trouble if they knew what she did out here.

Like she had a thousand times before, Natalie gripped the passenger side mirror of a car stacked above her head, and hauled herself up. She slowly and meticulously made her way up the rusting metal tower. She strategically placed her left foot into the smashed in side of an old Mustang, and gained another foot of height. At this point, she always stopped, turned, and saluted the barely recognizable old door that was hanging off the headlight of an sun-bleached wooden paneled station wagon. You could only see it from this vantage point, and it had taken her a long time to realize what it actually was, but she always felt the need to pay her respects to one of Baby's original backdoors. She had never asked what it was doing up here or how it had gotten so smashed up, because that would have been a dead giveaway that she was up here in the first place, so she just paid her respects anytime she saw it.

She finally succeeded in climbing to the top, and stretched out full length on the hood of an old Chevelle that graced the top of the rusted tower. It was her favorite place to get away when she just needed to think or be alone, or pout when she was in trouble. She had discovered it totally by accident when she was five and living with Bobby for a year, while going through the ghastly hell of public school. In her desperation to find someplace that she could let her frustrations out that wouldn't get her in trouble, she had stumbled upon the hidden metal mountain. You couldn't see it from the house, not even if you were looking out the second story window. There were no good parts back here, so Bobby nor Dean ever even gave it a second glance. Her hand and footholds for climbing had changed a bit over the years, as pieces fell away due to corrosion, or if she hadn't been particularly anxious to get a tetanus shot that day, but the tower remained- solid and desolate.

She looked up at the clouds. The metal beneath her was already warm from the late afternoon sun, but it wasn't unmanageable. She put her hands behind her head and inhaled deeply. The intensity of the day started to untangle itself in her mind. Why had she gotten so angry? Well, that was easy. She was being treated unfairly.

 _Were you really?_ her subconscious whispered to her. She pinched her lips, not really ready to mentally answer the question just yet. Suddenly, a voice from below broke into her reverie and scared the living daylights out of her.

"You know, climbing up on top of a rusty tower in a scrap yard isn't exactly the best idea after you've gotten busted for climbing on bookshelves already today."

Natalie instantly froze. She hadn't even heard him approach. Praying that if she didn't answer, he'd just leave her be, she inhaled shallowly, holding her breath and pinching her eyes shut.

"Bug, I know you're up there."

She sighed resignedly, then crept over to the edge; only her wide, green eyes peering over. Sam was standing right at the foot of the tower, his hands on his hips, but a playful smile on his face. When he saw her eyes, he chuckled to himself.

"C'mon," he said, crooking his finger at her. She had no choice but to obey. Dad and Pops were going to _kill_ her when they found out- not to mention she would lose her safe space. She closed her eyes, wishing it would all just go away, but knew she better do what Sam told her. She began the unwilling and slow climb down.

Sam watched her every move as she carefully descended, his hands halfway stretched to her in case she tumbled, but she didn't need it. Sam was mildly impressed at the way she clearly knew the ins and outs of every nook and cranny of the twisted metal as he watched her maneuver her way back down.

On the ground once more, she looked up nervously at him. She expected him to start yelling immediately- he was even more of a safety nerd than her father when it came to stuff like this. To her immense surprise, however, Sam smiled gently at her before tucking her into his side with a one armed hug. "Come on, I want to show you something," he said. Natalie's surprised eyes sought his for answers, but he was focused on the direction they were going.

"Um- Uncle Sam? Wh-where are we going?" she asked, fear and trepidation in her voice. Sam's smile just widened, but he didn't say anything. "Are we- we're not going back to the house, right?" she asked, the panic clear in her voice this time. Sam looked down at her and stopped moving.

"Nope. Don't worry. I'm not going to rat you out to your father or Bobby," he reassured her with a squeeze. "I just want to show you something," he said, raising his eyebrows and smiling as an invitation.

Upon hearing that she wasn't walking to her doom, Natalie's internal organs all settled back down to their correct places. She still wasn't sure what Sam was doing. However, if he wasn't going to tattle on her, she wasn't going to question it. She nodded, and Sam began walking again with her willingly trotting by his side. After they rounded the corner back towards the center of the junkyard, Sam surreptitiously looked to his left and his right- just as Natalie had done earlier. He took off around another corner- one Natalie had never gone around. She knew it lead to outside of the fence. Even when she had been at her angriest or most frustrated, she never dared cross that barrier. Her eyes widened as Sam casually slipped through a section of broken fence just large enough to let him. She, being about half of his size, followed easily. She stopped in surprise at what she saw.

There were a bunch of cars, lined up on the backside of the fence, their bumpers right up against it. Sam walked about five cars down before going in between the cars. He stopped at the door handle of an Oldsmobile and pried the passenger side door open for her. Her jaw hit the ground, causing Sam to chuckle again.

"Come on. Get in," he said, his grin going unchecked. Natalie cautiously walked towards him, watching his face as she approached. He was still smiling, so, praying that this wasn't a trick, she climbed into the passenger's side. Sam made sure she was fully in before shutting the door. However, he immediately rapped on the window with his knuckles. Natalie reached for the window crank, but realized it wasn't there. Sam chuckled, like he knew that was going to happen and spoke in a regular voice. That was when she noticed there was no windshield in the car. "Watch this," he said, his eyes sparkling.

He suddenly vaulted and slid across the hood of the car she was sitting in, causing her jaw to become unhinged and hit the floorboards in surprise. He popped up on the other side of the car, and gave her a little bow. She was too stunned to respond. He wretched open the driver's side of the car and dropped into the seat. "Been practicing my Dukes of Hazard move out here for years," he confessed to her, before shutting the car door. "What did you think?"

"That. Was. AWESOME," she said breathlessly. Sam chuckled in appreciation of her praise, then leaned back, prying his long legs from under the wheel shaft and tossing them carelessly onto the dashboard, where they stuck out of the place where the windshield should be. Natalie immediately tried to copy him, but only succeeded in getting her feet on top of the dashboard. Upon seeing the grim displeasure in her face, Sam laughed.

"Don't worry. That was about as far as I could reach too when I found this thing for the first time," he commented. Natalie's head whipped around to look him in the face.

"How long have you been coming out here?" she asked. Sam shrugged.

"Since I was about seven."

"And no one ever found you? Not Dad or Grandpa or Pops or anybody?"

"Nope. No one."

"Wow."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, just looking out the frame of the car at the sky slowly turning from blue to a gentle fiery orange as the sun set, sitting side by side. Sam was the first to break the ice.

"So. Rough day?" he asked gently, looking over at his niece that he loved more than life itself. Her face crumpled into a mask of frustration at his words. He nodded his head in understanding.

"Boy, I know that face well. It's the reason I found this place to begin with." Out of his periphery, he saw Natalie's eyes turn to him again. He continued. "I would get so mad at our dad, and occasionally at Dean, that I would go hide out here to keep away from all of them. When Dad and Bobby had that falling out when Dean and I were kids, it was especially frustrating to me, knowing that I had lost another spot where I felt safe and that was all my own." He gently patted the worn and cracked leather of the large front seat affectionately. "It was one of the first places I came back to when we re-connected with Bobby. I was glad to know it was still here."

At hearing that long-kept secret, Natalie inhaled sharply. "You feel- you got mad too when you were a kid?" she asked carefully, not wanting Sam to feel like he had to spill anything more than he already had, but curious all the same.

"Mad wasn't even close to what I felt, Bug. I was furious. I felt angry- all the time." He looked over at her. "I get the feeling that you're getting angry a lot yourself these days." Natalie bit her lip. _Here it comes,_ she thought bitterly. Here came the scolding from Sam that she should have known was in the works all along.

"You wanna talk about it?" he asked gently.

It was the last thing she was expecting. Her jaw dropped again, causing Sam to laugh out loud this time. He gently put his hand under her chin and closed her mouth. "You keep your mouth open like that much longer, I'm going to have to start calling you Bug Catcher."

An unbidden giggle burst from Natalie's lips, taking her by surprise. She suddenly felt safe- like she had on top of the hood of her tower car. Sam meant what he said- he was asking if she just wanted to talk it out. She knew that she could tell Sam things, and he would just listen instead of scolding her.

"I'm getting really mad sometimes, Uncle Sam, and I don't like it."

"You're growing up, Bug. It's gonna happen. And it's okay."

"I don't like it," she repeated with emphasis. Sam smiled at her in his gentle way.

"What makes you mad?" he asked.

"When Dad won't let me explain my side of things. Like today- it was just a total accident. I didn't MEAN for those shelves to fall over. I didn't mean to make such a mess. But they both treated me like I was a dumb baby. That made me really mad."

"How did they treat you like a baby?"

"Pops-" Even though Natalie knew that Sam already knew, she couldn't bring herself to tell him that she had gotten spanked like a child, so she amended her statement. "Pops yelled at me like I didn't know anything, and then Dad yelled at me twice. I was just trying to explain why I had climbed on the shelves."

"Why did you?"

"Because I needed a book and I didn't want to bother anyone."

"Is that the real reason?"

That question made Natalie think. Sam's ability to know when she was lying had made her start really analyzing when and why she was tempted to tell a lie. "Well, I guess I just wanted to do it all myself," she responded quietly.

"Bug, in your nine years, how often does lying or trying to get your way work out for you? Really think about that for a moment," Sam prodded gently. She did. As she went through her past misdeeds, she couldn't come up with a single instance that had played out in her favor.

"It….doesn't, really," she mumbled, afraid that the lecture was going to start.

"Exactly. Why?"

"Because…because you or Dad always catch me. You can tell when I'm lying, and he's got eyes everywhere."

"So deep in your heart of hearts, did you really think you were going to continue getting away with something that you knew you shouldn't have been doing?"

Ah- the questions that her brain had started to ask her while she was up on the tower. Her shoulders slumped. "No."

"So you get why Bobby and Dean got upset at you."

"Yes," she said. She didn't like it when Sam made her see reason. Sam knew that, and stifled his smile at the begrudging look on her face.

"However, I will say, I think they both went overboard," he said honestly. That brought her up short. Her eyes swung around to him, searching to see if he was just placating her or if he was telling the truth.

"You do?"

"Oh, absolutely. You're not the only one who's been on the receiving end of Bobby's swats." Sam shifted, as if the memory itself still carried a sting. "And Dean seemed more pissed that worried about you, as far as I was concerned."

Natalie sat up straight, twisting around to Sam, her hands reaching out to him in supplication. "That's exactly what I mean!" she said loudly. "It was just an accident. Yeah, I shouldn't have been doing it, but they came down on me like a ton of bricks!"

"You know why they did that?" Sam asked, turning his full face towards her. She shook her head. She had never stopped to think about that Her eyes sought Sam's, curious for the answer. "Because they were scared," he responded simply. Her face registered shock.

"Scared? What do you mean?"

"What I mean is, it scared the living crap out of both of them to think that you were hurt, especially when the entire thing could have been prevented." He watched as Natalie slowly settled back on the seat, listening to his words and thinking about her actions. "And you know your Dad and Bobby. When they get scared, they get-"

"Loud," Natalie finished up, the light bulb dawning in her brain. Sam nodded in agreement.

"They were reacting in anger because they were both scared for you."

"But Dad's been training me since Day One that a good hunter doesn't let anger rule him."

"Why do you think your Dad harps on you so much on that particular point?"

"I dunno."

"Think."

She did as Sam instructed. He had always been one to make her think and reflect, rather than just parrot her answers. It had always served her well, as it did now.

"Because he has a hard time doing it himself?" she asked tentatively. Sam nodded with a smile.

"Bingo," he said. "You and he are so alike, that he's trying to help you avoid the pitfalls he always seems to drop into. He needs to do a better job of avoiding those pitfalls, himself, in my opinion. That's why I come out here and cool off. Gives me a chance to think. And," he said, pulling his legs off the dashboard and turning full bodied towards his niece. "If you want to, you can use this place too."

Natalie's eyes got wide. "Really? You mean it?" she said breathlessly. "But this is your space."

"I'd rather you take over this space every now and then than try climbing that tower of death again," he teased.

She snickered. But she had another question. "So- other than come out here to cool off- how did you deal with the anger?" He turned to her. He could tell the feeling was really bothering her. He sighed and smiled.

"Well, truth be told, I don't always do a good job of dealing with the anger myself. Sometimes I just need to talk it out- other times I go for a run. It all depends. But you can't let it fester. It has to come out, one way or another. So if you need to talk it out, I've always got your back. Okay, Bug?"

She nodded, feeling relieved, and then launched herself into his arms.

"Thanks, Uncle Sam. You're the best," she said, nuzzling into his chest and feeling the soft flannel against her cheek. It has always been one of her greatest sources of comfort. Sam wrapped his long arms around her and squeezed, dropping a kiss on the top of her head and just holding her for a minute. Finally, he released her.

"Come on. Let's head back to the house. If I know your dad, he's probably feeling pretty guilty about yelling at you so much. Hell, he might even let you order pizza for dinner."

She chuckled, suddenly realizing that Sam was probably right, and feeling more affectionate towards her father. "Uncle Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"Anytime, Bug."


	58. The Birds, The Bees, and All That Crap

**Hello beautiful! Is your day going spectacularly? I certainly hope so!**

 **Here's the next installment of Natalie. I've had a lot of requests for her to get into some mischief and some more baby Natalie as well. I'm cooking those up- please be patient with me and I'll get them written out! I have a case story coming your way next :)**

 **The biggest hugs to all of you guys who have hung around so long. I can't believe we're almost at 200 followers- I'm in awe of you guys. I can't tell you how much I adore each and every one of you.**

 **MASSIVE thanks to Jenmm31- she's great at helping make these characters even more realistic, and I owe her the world.**

 **Read, Review, Enjoy! Happy Labor Day, Always Keep Fighting!**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is ten. Please see profile page for disclaimers.**

"I'll pay you a hundred bucks."

"Nope."

"Five hundred."

"Even if I thought you had that kind of money, the answer would still be no."

"I will let you drive Baby once. And only once."

"How is that possibly better than five hundred dollars?"

"That's like winning the freaking lottery, dude. Once in a lifetime opportunity."

"Except when you're tired and need a nap."

"Which never happens, because I'm a warrior."

"Still- no."

Dean threw up his hands. "Come on, Sammy! Help me out here! You're supposed to be the teacher."

Sam fixed Dean back with an even gaze. "And you're her father. It's your job," he replied, pointing at his brother.

Dean just sighed heavily, putting his hands on his hips and looking out the window. As much as he wanted to deny it, as much as he wanted to fight Sam on it, the truth of Sam's words was just too much to brush aside. After snorting derisively, searching for a burning sting that would change Sam's mind and, ultimately, coming up short, Dean finally turned back to Sam. A look of sheer desperation was on his face.

"Sammy, please, I'm beggin' here. I just can't do it."

"Dean. Natalie is YOUR daughter. As her parent, it should come from YOU."

Dean threw up his hands, exasperated again. "I can't do it! I can't talk to my ten year old daughter about…." He dropped his voice low. "…sex."

Now that she was ten, Sam had loosened the reins on what he would let Natalie get away with watching on TV and in the movies. Dean, of course, had been letting her watch pretty much anything she wanted to since she could talk, but now that Sam was on board, she was much more prone to ask questions about what she was seeing and hearing. A couple choice movies had led to some awkward conversations, and finally, Sam and Dean had come to the conclusion that it was time to give her the dreaded "Talk".

In response to Dean's dramatics, Sam just rolled his eyes. "Please, Dean, she's fully aware of the word. I mean, she's been on the road with us for ten years, and you've not always exactly been careful when it's come to that subject."

Dean stood up straight and pointed firmly at Sam. "I resent that. I've been extremely careful."

Sam cocked a disbelieving eyebrow at his brother. "Oh really?" he intoned flatly. "What about that time in Albuquerque?"

"I told you, I thought that door was locked!"

"And the time with that other hunter in Rhode Island?"

"The kid just thought we were wrestling. No harm, no foul."

"And when she decided to play hide and seek with one of the girls you brought back here for a one-nighter and nearly gave that poor woman a heart attack?"

"How was I supposed to know she'd be up that early?!"

"She's Natalie. She's been 'up that early' since birth."

"Fine, fine," Dean grumbled, turning away from Sam again. "You made your point. Happy?"

"Not until you tell me that you're going to have The Talk with her," Sam replied without missing a beat.

For lack of words, Dean took a long swig of the beer in his hand before resuming his pacing of Bobby's study. He looked around at the neat books and papers that had obviously been organized by his little girl, and the whole idea of having "The Talk" with her tied his stomach in knots. If he had this talk with her, that was just as good as saying that she was growing up- something that Dean was resoundly ignoring more and more so. He didn't like the idea of his little princess even talking to boys- let alone, touching or kissing or….and the idea of "The Talk" once again made him want to hurl.

Dean studied the beer can in his hand closely before trying to worm his way out of this again. "You really don't think she's too young?" he asked lightly, grasping at straws. He knew what Sam's response was going to be before he even took a breath.

"She's the same age we were when Dad gave us the talk."

"Gave me. I gave it to you when you were ten."

"And you left nothing to the imagination. So you've already had practice. This should be a cakewalk."

Dean glared at his younger brother. "A cakewalk? Tellin' your little brother about the ins and outs of getting laid is a hell of a lot different than telling your freaking DAUGHTER about it, you jackass."

"Dude, same words, same subject, same end game. Besides, you and she are really close. You'll be fine."

"What about Bobby? You think Bobby would do it for me?"

Sam snorted a disbelieving laugh, then held out his hands towards Dean like he was painting a picture. "Just imagine that conversation for a second. Just really think about what would happen." Dean did as Sam instructed. He pictured himself asking Bobby to have The Talk with Natalie. Every single scenario and tactic he could conceive ended with him getting the back of his head smacked and the deed still not done. Dean chewed on his bottom lip as the panic continued to rise in his chest.

"Cas! What do you think? You think Cas would do it? I bet he would. He loves the kid- he'll do anything for her," Dean said, the desperate gleam in his eye getting more pronounced.

"Unless you want Natalie to end up with the Pizza Man version of sex, and her asking Cas a lot of questions he can't answer, then having to have the talk with BOTH of them, I'd say that option's out."

Dean rolled his eyes. Dammit. He was truly stuck on this one. "I mean, I can DO it- like you said, explainin' it ain't the problem….it's just…..I mean, come on. It's Natalie. That's just….that's just too hard for me, man," Dean said shaking his head and looking out the window again. A muscle jumped in his jaw as he stared into the junkyard.

Sam sighed. "Look, Dean. I know this is rough. Hell, I wouldn't want to be in your shoes. But listen- she's getting older, and she really needs to know about the birds and the bees. And you know that needs to come from you." Sam stood up from behind Bobby's desk and walked quietly over towards his brother. "Doesn't mean she's still not your little girl, man. You know that."

"Yeah, yeah. I know," Dean grumbled, not wanting to admit that he was taking comfort in Sam's words. He downed the last of his beer, stared at the can one more time, then crushed it in his fist. After letting out an almighty belch, he turned towards the stairs and pointed.

"She up in her room?" he asked.

Sam reared back in surprise. "You gonna do this now? Right now?"

"No time like the present," Dean said, chucking his crushed can at Sam as he walked towards the stairs. He didn't say what he was really thinking, but he also wanted to get this over with before he chickened out. He slowly ascended the stairs, trying to think about how to even start this conversation. He tried to push the idea that he was about to rob his child of the little scrap of innocence that she had left. She had seen death and destruction pretty much since the day she popped out, but this was different. How was he supposed to end her childhood with a conversation? What kind of father did that?

He shook his head, trying to readjust his thinking. For a brief second, he let his mind think about Jamie- her mother. If she had stayed, she'd have been the one to have this stupid talk. But as the very thought of Jamie still made Dean see red all these years later, he pushed that from his mind. That was the last thing he needed- to go into this already uncomfortable situation with residual anger in his brain. He shoved Jamie back into the dark little box in his mind and focused on the task at hand.

He reached out a fist to knock on Natalie's door, then suddenly withdrew it. He was sweating like a whore in a church without air conditioning. The panic of the moment threated to overwhelm him and bring up the contents of his stomach yet again. "Get your head out of your ass, Winchester," he growled low at himself, then forced himself to knock on her door. He found himself bouncing back and forth on his feet, like a prizefighter about to enter the ring. "Just a talk. It's just a talk. You got this," he muttered to himself, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"Come in," said a sweet voice from inside. Dean grit his teeth, trying not to think about the sheer awkwardness of the coming moment, and opened her door. Natalie was sprawled out on her bed on her stomach, reading, as per usual. When she saw it was Dean in her doorway, her face lit up.

"Hiya, Dad!" she said, flipping her book over instantly so she wouldn't lose her place. "What's up?" she asked, sitting up on her bed and looking at him expectantly.

Dean opened his mouth to respond, but absolutely nothing came out. It was like his lungs had deflated. This monumental task of telling Natalie about sex had hit him full in the face- and he had no freaking clue what to do. He gaped like a fish for about ten seconds. Natalie's face contorted into a mask of confusion as she watched her father impersonate Nemo on land. "Dad? You okay?" she asked slowly, watching him like a hawk.

At that, an incredibly awkward laugh burst out unbidden from Dean's mouth. "HA! Of course. I'm great. I'm super swell." He stopped- what the fuck had he just said? Super swell? God, he was an idiot. He shook his head again, his casual, lopsided grin jumping onto his face immediately. "Yeah, so…I'm good. A-Okay. How are you?"

Natalie's eyebrow reached her hairline, trying to decipher Dean's awkward stammering. "I'm good, too. What's going on?" she said, a touch of fear creeping into her voice.

That, of course, made Dean panic even more. He needed her to stay calm and cool during this; otherwise, he was going to lose his shit. He had to sit down. He moved towards her bed. He was about to sit, when that suddenly became way too close for the conversation they were about to have. Right before his butt hit the mattress, he sprang back up, his eyes darting around the room. The wall behind him seemed to be an option for a safe location. He put one hand up on it, trying to lean casually against it. He grinned at Natalie- and then, from the look on her face, realized how stupid he probably looked. He frantically scanned the room again. The chair by her desk! Perfect. He darted over to it, tripping over a pair of her sneakers on the way, and practically fell into it as it swayed dangerously to the side from the force of his body checking it. As soon as he righted himself, he planted both feet firmly on the floor and slapped his hands down on his thighs. "There," he said, as if his wild dart around the room was perfectly normal. "That's better."

Natalie just stared incredulously. "Um…Dad?" she started to say hesitantly. "Are you…what is going on?" she said carefully.

"Nothing. Nothing is going on."

"Then…why are you acting so weird?"

"I'm not acting weird."

"Yes you are."

"No, YOU'RE acting weird."

"I'm not the one who just darted around the room like you got a bee in your boxers."

Dean took a deep breath, looked at the ground. Then, with another slap to his thighs, looked his confused daughter in the face. "Well, kid….Okay. You and I- the thing is…we- need to talk."

Natalie sat up a little straighter at that. "O…kay. Did…did I do something? Am I in trouble?" she asked a little fearfully. Dean waved both his hands in the air like he was swatting at bugs.

"No, no," he said impatiently. "Nothin' like that. You're not in trouble. I just thought that we could…talk." Natalie's eyebrows looked like they would never unwrinkle; so confused was she. Dean never wanted to just "talk" unless she was in trouble, but she hadn't done anything. That she could remember.

"Okay," she said, measuring her words. "So…what did you want to talk about?"

Dean instantly began flop sweating. This was the moment. He willed his lungs to fill with air and just dove in. "Well, Nat, the thing is…you're getting older, and there are certain…things that….older people…know." He paused to see if she was following him. Suddenly, the idea of saying the word "sex" was overwhelming. Maybe she'd figure out what he was getting at and say it first so he didn't have to. But she was still clearly confused, so he tried again. "When people get older…they…know things. You know?"

"What?"

Well, clearly he was nailing this.

"I mean, as you get older, you're going to have…questions about…stuff…and your dad…I mean me…I'm your dad….should…I can talk to you about…questions." He paused, wiped his drenched forehead, and gasped for breath as his lungs felt like they were closing off again. "You see what I'm getting at?"

"Dad, are you feeling alright?"

Dean groaned in frustration. "Look, Natalie. We need to talk about…"

"Talk about what?"

The silence in the room seemed to stretch into eternity. Dean's jaw creaked up and down as he tried to force the word from his mouth. Finally, after screwing his courage to the sticking place and taking in a deep gulp of air, he blurted the word out.

"SEX!" Holy shit, that came out a lot louder than he had intended it to. His eyes instantly darted to his daughter's face. Her perfectly innocent eyes were wide.

"Sex?" she repeated at a much lower decibel level than he had just used. Now that the forbidden word was out, Dean just nodded his head vigorously.

"Yup. Sex. We- we need to talk about sex," he said, gaining bravery. He had done it! He had said the word. He inhaled deeply, feeling very proud of himself. Then, just as quickly as the relief came, the panic came rushing back in, wiping it all away. Now, he actually had to TALK about it. Luckily, Natalie came to the rescue.

"Why do we need to talk about sex?" she asked, her eyes still wide and curious. Dean gulped a few times. He could do this. He had to do this. Promising himself an entire keg of beer once this was all over, he plunged in again.

"Well, sex is something that you need to know about. You need to know…how it all works, and you need to be able to ask questions. Although, in order to ask questions, you and I need to talk about…the logistics of everything…I mean….You need to know- how to do it. You know?" Dean looked into his daughter's eyes. Moment of truth. He could do this. He was Super Dad. He could have this conversation and be the hero that she needed to get her through this.

However, in the middle of this heartwarming thought, he got the surprise of his life. Natalie had been staring at him, wide eyed as he stammered his way through the beginning of The Talk. Suddenly, without warning, she exploded into laughter. Her guffaws were so loud, they could probably be heard the next town over. She wrapped her arms around her waist, trying to get ahold of herself as she chortled, but that just made her laugh harder. She fell onto her side on the bed, hooting and hollering like she had just been given a dose of laughing gas.

Dean just stared. What the hell had gotten into her? He knew that she sometimes giggled in awkward situations, but this outright laughter was new to him. He didn't know what to do. Was she laughing at him? At the situation? What was so damned funny?

Finally, she sat upright, wiping her streaming eyes. Her breath caught in hitches as she tried to speak. "Dad….Dad are you…hee hee hee….Dad are you trying…ha….are you trying to give me The Talk?" she finally managed to spit out, sounding like an asthma patient.

Dean, who was at a complete loss for what was actually going on, couldn't do anything more than reply. "Yes?" he asked cautiously. That caused another eruption of laughter from his daughter. He could actually feel a light spray of spit coming from her lips as she screamed in mirth again. He sat upright, trying to regain some of his dignity as he wiped his face.

"I'll just wait for you to finish, then," he said haughtily, watching her rolling around on her bed, clutching her sides. However, she wasn't anywhere close to done. After a very awkward minute passed, finally in irritation, he said, "Alright, lock it up. We've got to talk here, and you ain't makin' it easier on me, kid."

At that, Natalie sat upright, trying to control the wild giggles still pouring out of her mouth. "Dad, I'm sorry to laugh like that, but you're a little late."

Dean's insides froze. "What the hell do you mean, 'I'm a little late'?" he said through clenched teeth. Natalie kept inhaling as she tried to speak.

"I mean, you don't need to give me The Talk. I already know how it all works."

"Wh-what? How the hell do you know all that?!"

"Because when you and Uncle Sam were out on a hunt a couple months ago, I was working on some science homework. I finished the assignment early and started reading ahead because I was bored. I got to a chapter about anatomy, and just kept reading and doing my own homework on it." Natalie shrugged casually, the shit-eating grin still plastered on her face. "So then with my research, it didn't take me too long to figure out the links between anatomy and sex. With my research and stuff, I figured out how it all works."

Dean was absolutely flabbergasted. His eyes were now as wide as his daughter's had been when he first started blabbing about all this mess. He blinked stupidly a couple times, and finally found his tongue. "You…know it all?" he managed to spit out.

"Yup."

"Everything? Even….like…girly...girl stuff?"

"Pretty much."

"Are you sure you know everything?"

"Well, I think so. I mean, I had some questions, so I asked Uncle Sam."

Dean's eyes nearly fell out of his head at her casual statement. Everything suddenly seemed to turn red. "You mean to tell me," Dean hissed, the vein in his neck threatening to burst. "That your uncle KNEW you knew about sex? Did he already have the talk with you?"

Natalie shook her head, as if she hadn't just thrown Sam under the bus. "Not really. He told me that it was your job, and that you and I were going to talk about it and that you could answer all my questions, but only when you were ready to talk. He didn't answer any of my questions, and I wasn't sure how to bring it up to you. But I should have asked you way earlier. I never thought you were gonna be so weird about it!" she said, bursting into giggles again. "That was freaking hilarious!" she chortled. After she gained control again, she gulped and shook her head a few times. "So I guess we should talk about it and make sure I know everything. You want me to just start from the beginning?"

Dean, who couldn't think of a damn thing to say, just nodded mutely.

*SPN SPN SPN*

About half an hour later, Dean slowly descended the stairs. The deed was done. The kid DID know everything she needed to know, including all about all that girly crap that made him squeamish. For her sake, he had tried to keep his facial expressions of discomfort to a minimum while discussing that particular topic, and she didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. Dean patted himself on the back for his superior acting skills.

But he had to hand it to the kid- she had done her homework. He had filled in some minor gaps in her knowledge and some specific questions she had had, but that had been it. He had made sure to stress to her the importance of safe sex, grilling her on those particular practices, and tried to instill in her the idea that most people didn't have sex until they were well in their sixties. Of course, she didn't buy that, but just giggled at him in a way that made Dean realize that there was still a lot of child left in her, and he hadn't completely destroyed it with The Talk.

As he hit the ground floor of the house, a sing-songy voice came out of the study.

"So. How did The Talk go?"

Dean slowly turned around, breathing fire, ready to kill. Sam's feet were resting on top of the desk, casually crossed. He had a cold beer in his hand and a shit-eating grin on his face. Dean took a very measured step, and then another and another, right up to his brother. Every step he took, Sam's grin got wider. Finally, face-to-face, Dean said the only thing that came to mind.

"Stay here while I get my gun."

As Dean stormed out of the room, Sam took a hearty drink, chuckling to himself. Score one for the Moose.


	59. Prisoners of Our Own Devices Part One

**Good Evening Amazing SPN Family! I hope you are wonderful and well this evening! I have a weirdo case story coming at you- hold onto your hats, lol.**

 **Okay- full disclosure here. I just went through Hurricane Irma. It made landfall just south of where I live. Thank God it was a category two by the time it hit us, and I and my loved ones and our homes were spared. But have you all seen what's going on these days? Puerto Rico just got decimated by Hurricane Maria. Texas is still recovering from Hurricane Harvey. And the damage that I saw Irma do- I'm telling you, I've never seen anything like it in real life. Seeing it in your front yard is a lot different from seeing it in the movies. We've all joked that right now with all the hurricanes and earthquakes and tsunamis and everything going on, we feel like we're in season five of Supernatural. And y'all- it's some scary shit.**

 **So because there's all these terrible and scary things happening right now, I'm asking you to be kind to each other. Be kind to someone. Tell them you love them. Do something nice for someone- buy them an ice cream cone. Do the dishes. Give them a hug. Send a random text message telling someone how special they are to you. We can still keep the faith and get through terrifying times like this. Just share the happiness and the love.**

 **So more total disclosure here- you guys and your support mean so much to me, that for a while during the hurricane, I fell asleep with the flash drives of my stories in my hand. I didn't want to lose them, because you guys mean so much to me. Please know that.**

 **Jenmm31- honest to Chuck- the reason I made it through the hurricane with my sanity intact. She kept me calm through one of the most terrifying thing I've ever experienced. She is a true blue friend. And I'm lucky to have her. So go show HER the love and check out her stories. They're freaking brilliant.**

 **Love each other. I love you guys!**

 **A/N- In this story, Natalie is 16. This is part one of a three part story. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

On a dark, desert highway somewhere outside Pasadena, California, the '67 Impala raced the sunset. Truth be told, to look at her, she almost looked lazy, despite the speed at which she was going. The driver was in a rock coma, listening to the opening bars of "Stairway to Heaven" by the great Led Zeppelin. The shotgun, while keeping his cakehole shut, was staring listlessly out the window. The brat tucked into the backseat was moving her fingers in time to the music, as if she was playing the pan flute on the track. She was feeling tired and comfortable, just relaxing in the Impala- her home away from home.

They had just come from a case- and a hell of a case at that. A Djinn had been picking off hunters, starting in Washington, then working its way through Oregon and Northern California. When Dean got the call, the family immediately high-tailed over, joined forces with Jody and the rest of the assembled hunters, and nearly got themselves all captured in the process. But they had managed to save most of their fellow hunters. Natalie shook her head, staring out the window, trying not to remember Helen and Cody, the two hunters they'd lost. But you might as well have bid the sun to stop setting for all the halting she was able to do about those thoughts. It seemed disrespectful NOT to think about them- as if she wasn't honoring their memories. But thinking about them hurt. A lot. She had been fortunate thus far- in sixteen years, she hadn't really lost anyone close to her. They had lost people, sure, but this time was different. Even though she had only an acquaintance with Cody, she had hung out with Helen- had been sort of friends with the older woman. And they had all been Hunters together on the same case. They had been comrades in arms together; fighting the good fight.

Natalie made herself think about them for one more solid minute before she felt that that was enough self-torture for today. She yawned as she turned her attention towards the front seat. Sam heard the yawn and grinned.

"Not tired, are you, Bug?" he asked, teasing her. Despite being mid yawn, Natalie snorted with laughter.

"No. You guys just must be sucking up all the oxygen in here, and my brain is gasping," she teased back. Sam chuckled under his breath before yawning, too.

"Knock it off, you-" Dean got out before a yawn nearly split his face in half. "See? It's contagious. Stop it."

Natalie grinned, but shook her head. Suddenly, inexplicably, she was tired- very tired. It was such a foreign feeling to her that she wondered if it had been creeping up on her so well that she didn't recognize it for what it was until it hit her like a dump truck. Her head felt heavy as a boulder, and she leaned it up against the car window. Sam heard the thump of her head, and turned around. When he saw her slumping against the window, his look immediately turned from teasing to concerned. Natalie dismissed it with a wave.

"I'm fine," she mumbled.

Sam arched one eyebrow at her in disbelief, but didn't say anything.

"I'm FINE," she said grumpily.

"'Methinks the lady doth protest too much'," Sam said gently.

"What?"

"It's a quote from Shakespeare, Dean."

"Sam-speak English. Squirt- you okay?"

"Fine."

"Well, truth be told, I'm feeling tired too," Dean said, casually calling his daughter out on her lie. He squinted his eyes as he looked down the road. "You guys see that? Up ahead?" He pointed to a patch of light. Natalie sat upright to look out the front window. Like her father, she squinted too.

"It looks like some kind of sign," she mumbled.

"Yeah, well, if it's a hotel, we're putting up for the night. We're all beat, no sense in fallin' asleep at the wheel," Dean declared. Natalie rubbed her fists into her eyes. It wasn't like Dean to stop so soon- it was really only about eight thirty in the evening. But seeing as they were all feeling the exhausting after-effects of the hunt, she wasn't going to say anything. Besides, this feeling of being tired was really screwing with her brain, and she didn't like it.

As they got closer, they all saw with relief that it was, indeed, a motel. "Seems like a strange place for a motel, out in the middle of no where," Sam mused, looking around while stretching his eyes open wide. Even he was clearly feeling the exhaustion. He read the fading neon sign out loud.

"'Fort Lilac- one hi 'and you'll never leave'!'" he said, a definite tone of disgust in his voice. "That is a terrible tag line for a motel," he commented dryly, looking at the aging sign.

"It sounds like it's straight out of the 1950s. You know- 'everything's dandy with a tootsie roll candy!'" Natalie quipped. "Something like that."

"Don't quit your day job."

"Shut up."

"Fort Lilac," Dean repeated. "What is it, like a barricade made of daisies?" As they got close though, they realized it was anything but that. Despite the obvious age of the neon sign bearing its name, the hotel itself looked beautiful. The exterior was sleek architecture, with a fresh paint job. The contrasting gold and black colors were striking, even at night. Behind the front glass doors, a warm, golden light shone through, inviting them in.

"Call it what you want, I'm just glad it's here," Natalie said, sitting up again and craning her neck to look to look around. That's when she got a good look at the other cars in the parking lot. She whistled low. "Dad, check it out," she practically moaned.

Dean's attention turned to the other cars then as well, and a rumble of satisfaction came out of his chest. "Would you look at that," he whispered, almost reverently. The parking lot was full of showroom worthy cars. Everything from muscles cars near or around Baby's birthday to Volvos that were probably not even available to the public yet. The sheer amount of car porn in the lot was enough to make both Dean and Natalie drool. Even Sam could appreciate the beauty of the polished chrome hubcaps and tail fins. The silver Aston Martin on the left caught his eye.

"Wouldn't mind taking one of those for a test spin," Sam said quietly.

"So do you think we've stumbled onto some car convention or something? Because that would be freaking awesome," Natalie said, sitting up and forgetting about her tiredness.

"Let's hope so," Dean said. He found an empty spot next to a Mercedes Benz and very carefully pulled in, not wanting to get too close to the Benz's flawless paint job. "You all be careful getting out," he exclaimed bossily as he turned Baby's engine off. Sam and Natalie rolled their eyes in tandem as they exited the car, snatched their bags from the trunk, and headed towards the front door. When he was sure they couldn't hear, Dean looked down on the Impala's mirror finish. He leaned in towards it.

"Alright, Baby, I'm leaving you with the Benz for the night. You two have fun," he whispered, pointing to the Benz next to her. "Be safe. Use a car cover." He trotted towards his family, grinning like the cat that ate the canary at his hilarious joke. Sam had stopped close to the door, and turned around to see what was keeping his brother.

"Tell me you weren't saying 'goodnight' to your car," Sam said patronizingly.

"What kind of a dork do you think I am?" Dean said, brushing past him and choosing not to answer the question. As they approached the glass double door entrance to the hotel, a very lovely lady stepped right up to them, pushing them open wide.

"Hello!" she purred, tossing her long, sleek hair back. "Welcome to Fort Lilac. 'One hi, and you'll never leave'!" she said, uttering the company tag line cheerily. "Please come in!"

"Don't mind if I do," Dean said, grinning at her as his eye roamed up and down. She was stunning. Her long raven hair complemented her lovely porcelain skin tone. Her almond shaped eyes were a striking shade of blue. And that dress looked like it was one deep breath away from splitting at the seams.

"My name is Tiffany, and I'm the hotel concierge," she said, a warm, well-practiced smile on her lips.

"Well, hi there Tiffany. I'm Dean, and I'm sure as hell glad we're staying here tonight," Dean said back in his best come-hither voice. Natalie cleared her throat obviously, with a bit of a glare at her father. He had enough presence of mind to look slightly embarrassed at the silent chastisement, but once Tiffany turned and walked towards the counter and he got a good look at her backside, the abashment dropped plain off his face. Natalie ground her teeth together. She hated it when Dean did that.

"I know, I know," Sam said low in her ear, trying to soothe his niece, and fully aware of what she was thinking. She turned towards him, obviously displeased.

"Every time? Seriously? Every time?"

"Let it go, Bug."

She grumbled something inaudible in response.

They reached the front counter. Dean immediately pulled out his wallet and started going through the check in process. Sam and Natalie looked around the opulent and ornate lobby. The gold panels on the wall were drawn up with some of the most gorgeous hand-painted art Sam had ever seen. They each had gold-flaked bamboo frames perfectly fitting them, giving all the art work a sense of flow despite the individual pictures.

Tiffany caught Sam looking at them. "Stunning, aren't they?" she commented. Sam swung around to look at her, and she pointed to a panel that was on a masking wall to a staircase. "Authentic Japanese artists created them." She shrugged modestly. "My mother was Japanese. She insisted on having them done by real artists from Japan. I have to admit, they do add a certain élan to the place," she said, smiling as she looked at the oversized wall art. She looked back at the computer screen, typing in Dean's information, but continued to talk. "I'm the owner, so please forgive me if I take too much pride in my hotel."

"No, no, not at all," Sam said. "It's actually really beautiful. You should be proud."

"Well, thank you. I can't take all the credit for the interior though. My mother insisted that I always keep the lobby in this style. I inherited this hotel from her when she passed."

"I'm so sorry," Sam said, genuine sympathy in his voice. She smiled at the comment, but offered none of her own on the subject. Instead, she continued to talk about the hotel.

"It was supposed to be 'Fort Cherry Blossom', but that was just too on the nose, you know?" she said with a small giggle. "I asked her to call it Fort Lilac instead. You should see the blossoming trees around here. The smell of the lilacs is unforgettable."

"Wow. I didn't realize that lilacs were indigenous to this area," Natalie said, a tone of surprise in her voice. Dean smiled proudly at her vocabulary. He had a kid that could use a word like "indigenous" and know what it meant. Must have been her fantastic genes.

Tiffany looked at her, an impressed grin crossing her face. "You're right. They're not. I've just always had a…shall we say….flair for the unusual." She pointedly looked at Dean and smiled, causing his brain to think a thousand things that, if voiced, would have earned him a punch from his daughter. "Trying to keep lilacs alive in this area is nearly impossible, but I'm pretty stubborn," she said with a chuckle as she checked her computer screen. "Alright now, I think I've got you three set up. If you'll follow me, I'll show you to your room."

"Wow. Door to door service. Literally," Dean said, his smile nearly splitting his face in two.

"We're known for our hospitality," Tiffany replied back warmly with a suggestive smile. Right before Natalie was about to make a smart-ass remark, the lights suddenly flickered once, twice, then the whole motel was plunged into darkness. "Dammit," Tiffany hissed, her perfect persona cracking instantly.

All three Winchesters immediately reached for the flashlights in their pockets and clicked them on. Tiffany suddenly looked surprised at the three beams of LED light shining at her, but then chuckled. "Are you all former boy scouts or something? You know, 'always be prepared'?"

"Yeah. Something like that," Sam said back with a smile.

"I'm so sorry. We're hosting a convention now of….shall we say…of a certain age group that is known for their rowdiness and shenanigans."

"Let me guess. College frat boys from some rich guy school?" Dean quipped sarcastically, looking out the lobby window to his left. The other two Winchesters followed his gaze to the opulent courtyard. There appeared to be beautiful cascading water fall, artistically splashing over polished stones and surrounded by palm trees and frangipani plants, ringing with glowing tiki torches. It was tough to tell with the massive amount of drunken idiots crashing into each other and dancing crazily to some unheard beat of vulgar music.

Tiffany rolled her eyes and turned back towards the group. "How did you guess?" she answered sarcastically before remembering herself. "My apologies for my lack of tact. It's been a little frustrating around here recently. Luckily, all the rooms here are incredibly soundproofed they shouldn't bother you. Well, in that regard. The boys seem to enjoy tripping the fuse box. This is the third time today. Again, my apologies."

Natalie, however, wasn't bothered in the slightest. Most of these guys looked only a few years older than her, and, to her young eyes, looked very promising. "Look at all the pretty, pretty boys," she murmured, practically drooling, not really realizing what she was doing. She took one step towards the window before she felt Dean's hand snatch her collar and yank her back. "Hypocrite," she hissed at him. He smiled snidely at her in response.

Tiffany withdrew a stub of a candle from her pocket. Apparently, this HAD happened several times recently. "Here, let me," Dean said chivalrously. He produced his lighter and flicked it on, touching it to the wick. Tiffany smiled at him. Natalie shot daggers at him.

"Thank you. Please give me one moment to reset the breakers- I'll be right back." Without waiting for an answer, she turned and walked down the hallway next to the concierge desk. The shadows from her dancing flame flickered off the walls as she retreated.

"Well. Rich frat boy get together. Explains all the fancy cars in the parking lot," Dean said in his gravelly voice. He turned to see what Natalie thought of that, but she had turned her attention backwards, gazing fondly out the window at the rough housing machos. Dean slapped her upside the back of her head.

"OW!"

"Put your tongue back in your mouth there, Casanova."

"I'm just looking. You do it all the time. You're drooling over the concierge lady so bad, you're practically standing in a puddle."

"That's different."

"How is that different?"

"You're grounded till you're thirty- that's how it's different." Natalie just good-naturedly chuckled in response. Dean, however, took a hold of her arm and turned her so she was facing him. "Nat, I'm serious. I don't want you around those guys while we're here. You copy?" She could tell he wasn't playing this time- he meant business. She nodded back, even though she thought he was going a little overboard. Better to be safe than sorry.

"Yeah. I don't like drunk guys anyways. They smell terrible," she agreed cheerily.

Sam spoke up dryly. "You should know. Your father's been one for years."

"I resent that, Samuel." Just then, the lights in the motel came back on. All three Winchesters pocketed their flashlights just as Tiffany came back around the corner.

"There now, that's better. So let me show you the way to your rooms. If we hurry, we can still catch the dinner buffet in the dining room."

*SPN SPN SPN*

About ten minutes later, after dropping their bags off in a way-bigger-than-normal room, the small family found themselves ensconced in a corner booth in the hotel's dining room.

"Well, this is a nice change of pace," Sam said, examining the fine china that had been provided at the buffet.

"Yeah- as soon as I'm done licking the plate, I'm totally going to look at it too," Dean said, his mouth crammed full of food already.

Natalie giggled and looked around. The Japanese style had carried over into the dining room. The window shades were all made out of a light woven bamboo and had all been drawn for the night. There were large paper screens placed decoratively along the walls, and a flock of delicate origami cranes were suspended from the ceiling on invisible lines. The rich, red, thick carpet provided a sense of mystery and elegance that was hard to miss.

"The buffet is pretty good," she commented, swiping a piece of bread around the edges to get the last of the lemon Dijon sauce left over from her spinach stuffed chicken. "Lots of variety."

Just then, a waiter sauntered over to them. "You folks still doing alright?" the older man asked with a pleasant, avuncular smile.

"Doin' great, man, thanks," Dean said, attempting to swallow his enormous mouthful of food and respond like a human being.

"This your first time at Fort Lilac?"

"Uh, yeah. We've never really been in this neck of the woods before," Sam said quickly before Dean could embarrass him again with his lack of social graces. "Beautiful place."

"Well, thank you. We don't get a lot of visitors out here. Only the really special people find their way here," he said, with a friendly wink at Natalie. She smiled her sideways smile in response. The older gentleman continued, "People who actively seek out the most attractive places in the world. Well, and, you know- the ghost hunters."

Natalie dropped her bread in surprise. "I'm sorry- the what?"

"Oh yes, Miss. The place is haunted."

All three Winchesters were instantly on alert, but tried to look casual about it. "Oh really?" said Sam. "What makes you say that?"

The older man chuckled. "Well, I suppose that's a bit of a tall tale. But back in the day, we had a spirit that roamed these very halls. Some say it was an old captain of the coast guard. He used to frequent the place, especially after World War II. When he died, he just stayed. Used to knock on tables, open curtains, all that kind of scary stuff," he said, directing it at Natalie, clearly trying to playfully scare her. Dean watched with a barely concealed grin as his daughter slowly got more and more irritated with being treated like a frightened child. The waiter didn't notice- he kept on speaking. "But it did all die out a while ago- somewhere around 1969."

"Wow," said Dean. "That's…specific."

"Been here for a very long time, son. You notice these things. We haven't had a problem since. But you never know. Tonight just might be the night that old spirit comes back," he said again, making spirit fingers towards Natalie. She simply smiled in a pinched way, which Dean knew meant that she was stabbing him in her mind. With another lighthearted chuckle, the older man took his leave.

The moment he was out of earshot, Natalie's bitch face turned on Sam and Dean. "Okay, do I LOOK like I'm five or what? What the hell was that about?" she fumed, angry at the patronizing tone of the older man.

"Calm down, kid. He's an old fart. He didn't mean any harm," Dean said. "You'd probably scare the shit out of him if he realized that you DO hunt ghosts for a living." He slapped his hands down on the table. "Now, if you two will excuse me, there are at least three kinds of pie up there, and I intend to make each one of them my bitch."

*SPN SPN SPN*

As they were walking back to their room after the delicious dinner, Dean looked over at his daughter. She was keeping pace with them walking down the hallway, but staring at her fingers, which she kept tenting and then tying in knots. He dropped away so that Sam was in the lead, and sauntered up next to her.

"Hey space cadet," he said, nudging her with his shoulder. "You okay?"

She sighed lightly. "I guess." Dean knew exactly what that meant. She was thinking about the hunters they had lost again. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

"Kiddo, you gotta let them go."

"I know, but-"

"No, there ain't no 'buts' on this. You keep thinking about them, it'll eat you up inside. Trust me- I know."

"That feels like I'm-disrespecting them, somehow. Like if I don't think about them and how they died, then they'll just be forgotten or something."

"Natalie, listen. Your heart is way bigger than anyone I know, okay? You care probably more than anyone about anything. And that's great, kid. I don't ever want you to lose that. But for your own sanity- especially if you want to stay in the hunting game, you're gonna have to learn to grieve and let it go. Helen and Cody were good hunters- they just got caught at the wrong place and time. There was nothing you could have done."

"I just feel like I failed."

"You didn't. You hear me? You had nothing to do with their deaths. That was all on that damn djinn. You weren't even close to them when it happened- you couldn't have given them backup."

"If I'd have gone with them, I would have."

"Yeah, and then you would have left Jody without backup, and that thing could just as easily have gone after her. I'm telling you. This wasn't your fault. Where you even GOT that idea is beyond me. You need to let this go."

"Easier said than done."

Dean dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "That, I can relate to," he said, resting his chin on the top of her head. "But listen. I'm here, Sam's here. We'll talk this out with you as long as you need. Okay?"

"Okay," she whispered back, squeezing him around the middle. "Hey."

"I know. You too."

"I know."

*SPN SPN SPN*

They all went to bed without further incident. Tiffany had been right- the hotel had been incredibly well sound proofed. They all slept hard and right through the night.

The next morning, Natalie rubbed the sleep from her eyes and stretched lazily before she even sat up in bed. Unlike most of their usual rooms, this couch was ridiculously comfortable. Usually, if she got lucky, the bed was a hideaway. She was so used to sleeping on couches that it didn't really matter. A hideaway was more of a special perk than a necessity. But here, not only was it a hideaway bed- it was a hideaway bed with a memory foam mattress. It was like being back in her own bed at the bunker. Other than her bed at Bobby's, it was one of the few beds she was actually incredibly comfortable in. She may have even actually slept in for once, she thought, judging by the slant of the sun coming in through the window.

After another couple minutes of lazily lying there, she finally sat up. She could smell something warm in the air- a strange smell, but not unpleasant- a bit like coconuts. She turned her head in the direction of the double beds in the room to see if her father and uncle were up yet.

Surprisingly, she didn't see either one of them in bed. Chuckling to herself, she got up. She NEVER slept longer than the two of them. She looked around the small pony wall separating the room from the tiny kitchen unit, expecting to see one or both of them. But they weren't there either.

Brow wrinkled, she took a quick look into the bathroom. Nothing. A tiny flicker of worry ignited in her chest, but she tried to dismiss it. She quickly made her way back towards her bed, picking up her phone. If they were going to have left her alone in the room, they would have at least sent her a text letting her know where they were. But there was nothing on her phone.

"Dad? Uncle Sam?" she called out tentatively.

There was no answer.


	60. Prisoners of Our Own Devices Part Two

**Hey, you wonderful person. How are you doing today? It's FRIDAY! YIPPEE!**

 **Thank you for all the reads, reviews, follows, favorites, all of it. You guys are INCREDIBLE. So here's part two for you!**

 **Special thanks to Jenmm31 for beta-ing like a BOSS! Please go check out her stories if you haven't already. They're a brilliant, fun, sweet and emotional read- absolutely fantastic. Do yourself a favor and check it out.**

 **So if you remember, the last part of the last chapter (or should I say The Road So Far...hee hee hee) Natalie had woken up in the hotel room alone. Enjoy the ride.**

 **I love you people and there's nothing you can do about it :)**

 **A/N- this is part 2 of a three part case story. If you haven't already, please go back and read the previous chapter, otherwise this ain't gonna make a lick of sense. See profile page for disclaimer.**

The first thought that ran through Sam's mind was that they had forgotten to pull the shades last night. He could feel the brightness from the morning light burning his eyes through his closed lids. He reached a hand up to shade his sight before trying carefully to blink his eyes open.

When he finally managed to crack his lids, he instantly knew something was wrong. For one thing, their room was all reds, golds, and blacks, just like the dining room. But everything surrounding him was white. And not a room. It appeared to be some corridor.

Shaking his head as his eyes adjusted, he picked himself up off the floor. Okay, he had definitely gone to sleep in a bed last night. Why the hell was he waking up on the floor in the middle of a stark white hallway?

"Dean? Natalie?" he called, his voice gruff with sleep. All he could hear was the echo of his own voice down the hallway.

 _Okay, this has got to some bad practical joke,_ Sam thought to himself. _Natalie probably found this place and convinced Dean to leave me up here. Although, how they moved me without waking me up…_

Sam shook his head without finishing the thought. Brushing off his clothes, he noticed that up and down the solid white hallway, there seemed to be doors. Lots and lots of them, all up and down the corridor. Surely one of them led to an exit where he could get his bearings back. As he looked up and down the hallway, trying to judge which of the doors would be the best option, he pinched his lips in displeasure, thinking of all the extra Latin homework Natalie was going to be getting as a result of her little practical joke.

He finally realized that there was no indication as to which door might actually help him. There were no signs, no lights, not even finger smudges indicating that a human being had gone through one of them. Nothing but stark, unforgiving whiteness and the sounds of his own footsteps. At random, he tried the closest door, wondering if it would even open. His hand connected with the doorknob and, gripping it tightly, he twisted it. The door swung open easily.

The interior of the room was dark, despite the brightness of the hallway. He walked in and the door instantly shut behind him. He whipped around and latched onto the knob, panicking that he had just somehow been trapped in the room. Years of hunting had made him paranoid about this kind of thing. He twisted the knob, and it opened back into the hallway. Breathing a sigh of relief that he wasn't locked in here after all, he turned to explore the room.

After such intensity with all the white, he felt almost blind in the dim light. His eyes began to adjust, painfully slowly. He was able to make out shapes after a moment. He held his hand out in front of him, trying to reach one of the shapes. He gingerly touched it, and as his eyes continued to adjust, he was able to identify it. It was a desk. A teenager's desk, from the look of it. He tilted his head, studying it. It was piled high with papers and notes, all done in a meticulous hand. He squinted at the notes, realizing that there was something familiar about them, but in the dim light, it was hard to make out exactly what. His gaze shifted to the piles of books. AP Calculus, Biology, Learning Through Literature vol. 3- he recognized all of these. They were similar to the books he used when teaching Natalie. Then his eyes landed on the laptop shoved to the side of the desk. He knew that laptop as well as he knew the back of his hand. It was Natalie's laptop.

He stood bolt upright. Where the hell was he? He began frantically searching the walls in the dim light for any other kind of indication. What he found shocked him- and scared the living hell out of him.

Taped to the wall, pinned on a corkboard, hanging in frames, were pictures. Probably about twenty to thirty; too many to count quickly. Sam zeroed in on the closest one. The background was what looked like a national park with a giant rock formation- possibly Yellowstone, or the like. A family was posed, smiling for the camera. It contained three people. Dean, Natalie, and another woman. A short, dark haired woman who looked familiar. With a terrifying jolt, Sam realized- it was Jamie. Natalie's mother.

He frantically began searching the other pictures. Sure enough, every single one of them contained some combination of the three of them. Natalie with Jamie, Dean with Jamie, Natalie and Dean, all in happy, typical, family poses. There was one of a probably three-year-old Natalie spraying Dean with a garden hose while laughing uproariously. There was one of Jamie tucked up next to Natalie in bed, under a Frozen blanket, reading to her. One of Dean with his arm around a ten-year-old Natalie who was in a blue bathing suit and goggles, holding up what looked like a swimming medal. One of Jamie and Dean slow dancing, touching forehead to forehead, eyes closed.

Sam stepped back, both captivated and afraid. What was this? Was he in some sort of alternate dimension, where Natalie had been raised by Dean and Jamie- but not him?

"Have you figured it out yet?" came a familiar voice suddenly from behind him. Sam whipped around to see Natalie standing there- the Natalie as he had left her last night.

"Bug, thank God you're okay," he said, his voice hoarse with relief. He reached out towards her, but she instantly stepped back. He stopped, surprised. She had never done that before. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern laced into his voice.

She was gazing at the pictures, an unreadable look on her face. Finally, after an awkward silence, she turned her attention back to him.

"You have the balls to stand there in front of all of these pictures and ask me if I'm okay? No. I'm not okay, Sam," she hissed out bitterly.

Sam's jaw dropped. Natalie didn't talk like this. Natalie never called him Sam. Which meant only one thing.

"You're not Natalie," he said, his voice dropping low as he instantly raised his guard.

"Oh, I'm her, alright. Just not the one you know," she said, a self-righteous tilt to her eyebrow. At Sam's confused look, she explained. "I'm the choice you didn't make about Natalie."

"You're the…what?"

"You going deaf? The choice you didn't make about Natalie. You could have made so many different choices about me, and you didn't. You didn't watch Jamie closely enough. You let her escape from the hospital. You let your Natalie grow up without a mother- just like you. Were you jealous of the fact that she once had one? Is that why you let Jamie slip through your fingers?"

"No- no," he stammered, his eyes growing wide at the sudden accusations and the strangeness of it all. "It wasn't like that…we had no idea she was a flight risk. She said…"

"Oh, she said, did she?" the fake Natalie taunted. "She said, she said. What did she say? Did she say that she wanted an apple pie life? Didn't you think your brother deserved that when he had the chance?"

"He tried to take that chance with Lisa- and he hated it. I know he hated it," Sam said, his mind whirling as the image of Natalie change trains of thought rapidly.

"Do you think it would have been different for him with a kid that was actually his?" she spat out. That stopped Sam in his tracks.

"I- I wanted him to get out...When I realized that he wasn't going to give up Natalie, I tried to talk him out of leaving the hunting world-"

"But you didn't try hard enough," fake Natalie interrupted. "You didn't really try. You didn't speak up for me. I didn't even have a voice back then. You were supposed to be that voice for me. I needed you to be the voice for me," she spat at him, advancing on him, step by menacing step, forcing his back against the wall.

"Natalie, I'm sorry…" he gasped out, waves of guilt and confusion crashing over him in an emotional tsunami.

"Sorry doesn't get me back the life I was supposed to have. A life without you in it."

Even though he knew this was some illusion, even though he knew it wasn't really her, Natalie's words cut his very soul. Holding on to the slippery reality that this WASN'T his reality, he turned and bolted for the door, yanking it open and darting out.

He instantly found himself back in the stark, white hallway. He removed his hand from the doorknob, wiping it on his shirt and trying not to hear the echoes of the fake Natalie's accusations in his head. He looked around wildly, afraid to try another door, but knowing that if he wanted to get out of here, he had no other options. Which begged the question- where the hell was he?

*SPN SPN SPN*

Dean came to, his face smashed into the carpet. Wait- he hadn't gone to sleep on the carpet. Their hotel room didn't even have carpet- just a polished black wood floor. Man- maybe that sake he had at dinner was stronger than he realized.

He pushed himself up to a seated position on one hip, and suddenly became aware of where he was. The thick, plush red carpet underneath him was instantly recognizable. He was- somehow- in the dining room. He shook his head, confused. Had he sleep-walked down here? He quickly looked around, expecting to see other hotel patrons. He realized with a sleepy grin that with the other party staying in the motel, it probably wasn't too unusual to find a dude passed out drunk in a room that he wasn't supposed to be in.

He stood up, stretching and grumbling. The carpet was thick and soft, but he was still getting up there in age, and a night on the floor wasn't exactly the most comfortable sleeping arrangement to begin with. He stretched his arms and legs, and starting sniffing, hoping to find a coffee pot nearby. Or even another person who could maybe let him back into his own room.

As he looked around, he noticed that the dining room was set perfectly. Every place had the china dishes from dinner last night, along with an impressive display of cutlery and wine glasses. The little bar that was tucked into the corner of the room where he'd done two shots of sake last night was polished and pristine, just waiting for the frat boys to come and defile it. Looking surreptitiously around himself to make sure there was still no one there, Dean poured a quick tumbler of bourbon, tossing it down the hatch. There. That wet his whistle. Not exactly coffee, but it would have to do.

He looked around again. All the window shades had been drawn, just like they had been last night. He walked towards the carved ornate black doors. He reached for the handle and twisted, but it didn't give. At all. He tried again, with a little more force this time. Nothing.

His hunter senses clicked on immediately. He was locked in the dining room- but by what? Maybe it hadn't been the sake after all. Maybe there was something else going on here. Wouldn't be the first time.

Dean patted down his pockets, looking for weapons, tools, a lock pick, anything. He still had his flashlight and lighter, but that was it. No knives, no gun, nothing. He cursed for a moment, then examined a nearby table. Salt shaker and what he hoped was a silver knife. _That'll do,_ he thought.

He quickly pocketed the items while continuing to scour his surroundings. The buffet, to his surprise, was full- a waiting feast. How had he not noticed its seductive scents before? He sniffed again, appreciating the curls of steam drifting off of the large platters. The scent itself seemed to fill his stomach. He sniffed deeply, again and again and again.

Then he suddenly realized he wasn't hearing just his own sniffing. Another sound- to his right- caught his attention. It was sniffing too- but it wasn't human. Dean spun around to locate the source of the sound and instantly froze.

A huge black dog was facing the buffet line, sleek and three times the size of a normal pit bull. Dean's heart stopped. How the hell was a hellhound loose in the dining room?

The dog turned his sniffing head towards Dean as he caught his scent. Dean reached quickly into his pocket and withdrew the knife, holding it in a guard position. The dog tilted his head to the side, as if confused by the sight of Dean brandishing a knife. The dog seemed to look him right in the eye. Dean's head instantly filled with a buzzing fuzz.

"I don't intend on hurting you, you know."

Dean shook his head. Where had that voice come from?

"Stop panicking. You're only going to get yourself upset." Dean looked wildly around the room while keeping his guard up. He didn't want to take his eyes off the hellhound, but where was the voice coming from? Did someone sneak into the room without him noticing?

He heard an exasperated sigh. "Dean, it's me," the voice said. Just then, the dog took a tentative step towards him. Dean immediately focused all his attention back onto the creature, ready to slice the damn thing to ribbons.

"Please don't 'slice me to ribbons'. I really don't want to hurt you," the voice said meekly. The dog dropped his head down subserviently, but still kept his gaze on Dean.

Dean's jaw dropped. After a minute of stuttering, he finally found his words. "Are you…are you TALKING to me, dog?" he said, his voice full of disbelief.

"I wouldn't exactly call it talking," the voice said, as the dog dropped to the ground casually, relaxing. "More like- speaking in your head," the voice continued.

Dean shook himself. This was nuts. He must still be feeling the after effects of the sake- or maybe even that shot of bourbon he just did. He pointed the knife at the humongous beast.

"You- you are NOT talking…in my head or anywhere else," he finally spat out, hoping that his voice sounded more authoritative than he felt. He looked around for an exit. The windows were still all drawn. With the speed of an Olympic runner, Dean took off towards the nearest one and ripped down the shade. He pulled back an elbow to put through the glass window to free himself.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you."

Something about the voice inside his head made him stop- and not a moment too soon. He whipped his head around and got a good look at the window. The glass was easily three inches thick. He would have shattered his entire arm trying to break his way out of the room.

"See? Do you believe me now? I'm looking out for you. I don't want to hurt you, Dean," the voice whispered gently. The black dog cautiously got up and took a gentle, creeping step towards him, as if it was afraid. Dean put his back to the glass window, but didn't raise his knife.

"What is this?" he yelled out, trying to intimidate the creature into giving some answers. "Why am I down here? Where's Natalie and Sam?"

The dog plainly rolled his eyes. "Ah, yes. Natalie and Sam. Don't be afraid. You won't have to worry about them for much longer."

That instantly raised Dean's hackles. "You wanna tell me what you mean by that, Fido?" he shot back.

"First of all, my name's not Fido. Secondly, please remember that I mean you no harm."

"Yeah, you just got me locked me in a room with a telepathic dog. I completely feel led to trust you."

The dog continued speaking in Dean's mind as if he hadn't been interrupted. "And third, you won't have to worry about them much longer because they won't be around."

Without a second thought, Dean roared with rage and charged the dog. He raised the knife as if to stab it right between the eyes, but somehow, the dog wasn't there anymore. Dean flipped around, confused, to see the dog standing behind him, a look of pity on its canine face.

"Dean, please stop. I really don't want to hurt you."

Ignoring the words echoing in his head, Dean charged the animal again. No one threatened his daughter or his brother and lived to tell the tale. This time, he made contact. His knife drove right through the animal's chest. He pushed against it with all his might, hoping to hit a vital organ and do fatal damage. He finally flung himself away from the beast, breathing heavily.

The dog looked down and seemed to sigh, seeing the knife lodged in his chest. "Do you feel better now?" it asked in Dean's head. Dean's eyes went wide- the damn thing had a knife sticking out of its chest. It was deep enough that it had to have at least punctured a lung. As he watched in horror, the dog lifted a paw, and with a casual flick, pulled the knife out. It dropped to the ground. The blade had been bent- as if it had struck something internally. It wasn't even covered with blood.

Dean looked up again at the dog in horror. "What kind of freaking hellhound are you?" he managed to gasp out.

"Well, there's your first mistake," the dog said casually, licking the paw it had used to pull out the knife. "I'm not a hellhound."

"Then what the fuck are you? Cujo? Benjy?"

"Both clever guesses, but inordinately wrong. I'm Nobody."

"You're…nobody?" Dean repeated, incredulous.

"Capital N, if you please. Nobody is my name."

"Strange name for a mutt."

"I'm not a mutt, either. And you should really try to be more civilized now that you're speaking to me."

"Oh yeah? And why is that?"

"Because we're going to be spending a long time together."

"Really."

"Yes. The rest of your life, as a matter of fact."

"If you think that, you've got another thing coming, Lassie. You don't know who you're dealing with."

The dog suddenly looked up and narrowed its eyes at Dean. "Oh, yes I do," he said firmly. "The Great Dean Winchester. Survivor of Hell, Heaven, and everything in between. The Greatest Hunter the World has ever seen. Does that about cover it?" the dog thought sarcastically.

Dean shrugged and looked smug for a moment. "I wouldn't say the GREATEST hunter, but other than that, pretty damned close. So you do know me. Big deal."

"Oh, it is a big deal. See, not only do I know you- I'm what you keep locked in that little black box inside the deepest recesses of your brain."

"There's a dog trapped in my brain? You've got to be kidding me."

"No. I'm only taking this form because you're secretly still a little scared of hellhounds, no matter what you tell you brother or your daughter." At the mention of Sam and Natalie, Dean instantly saw red again.

"Where are they? What have you done with them?" he roared again. "You tell me or so help me, I'll make Chinese food outta you."

"No need for the dramatics. I'm not after them. Time will take care of that." Dean was stunned into silence trying to puzzle out the dog's words. The dog took the opportunity to forage ahead.

"See, the thing that you most fear is being left alone. Your mother left you, your father, even your precious brother for a while. You are terrified that your daughter is going to leave you too. That if she does, your entire existence will be shattered. I'm just here to let you know that- it will happen. The things you fear- I'm the embodiment of them. In this place, your brother isn't here. Your daughter isn't here. They're gone. And you're left with me. The person you fear the most." The dog tilted his head again. "Nobody."

*SPN SPN SPN*

Natalie made her third trip around the room before she accepted the fact that neither Sam nor Dean were there, had left any message, or any indication as to where they might be. Her hunter training kicked in automatically as she assessed the situation. There was no sign of a struggle, which meant they had left the room peacefully. Unless they had been drugged. Or magically transported. Both reasonable assumptions in their line of work.

She quickly armed herself. Salt, holy water, gun, silver knife, the whole nine yards. Keeping her favorite silver .45 in her hand but tucked casually behind her back, she slowly opened the door into the opulent hallway and looked carefully around. There didn't seem to be anyone there.

She crept out, closing the door gently behind her, keeping her back towards the wall like Dean had taught her to. But it was unnecessary. She didn't encounter another single human being along the way. There was no one in the hallway- there was no one on the stairwell. It seemed like she was all alone in the place.

She was starting to get creeped out. She knew there was that whole frat boy convention here. She should have seen at least someone by now. She shoved down the rising panic in her chest at having no clue where her father and uncle were. She slowly made her way downstairs to the ornate front lobby. Tiffany was at the front counter, typing away on her computer. Before rounding the corner from the staircase and into Tiffany's sight, Natalie quickly tucked the .45 into the small of her back and pulled her flannel shirt over it. She then walked hastily towards the front counter.

"Tiffany?" she asked cautiously, hating to disturb the woman's work, even at a time like this. The concierge looked up and smiled.

"Ah! Natalie, right? How did you sleep last night?" Tiffany inquired with a polite customer service oriented smile.

"Fine, fine," Natalie said, brushing the question aside. "Have you seen my dad or my uncle this morning? When I woke up, I couldn't find them." She expected Tiffany to look concerned or upset. Instead, a slight smile crept onto her lips.

"Yes, I've seen them," she said softly.

Natalie's insides sagged with relief. "Oh, okay good. Can you tell me where they are?"

"No, Natalie. I'm sorry, but I can't do that."

That threw her for a loop completely. "Wait- what? Are you…you're not serious?" Natalie stammered.

"I'm very serious. But don't worry. They're fine. For the most part."

"For the most part?! What the hell does that mean?"

"It means that you all are here for a reason. You stumbled into my little oasis, and I couldn't be happier. The Winchesters- in my hotel. I never thought I'd be so lucky," Tiffany said, her perfect smile suddenly seeming sinister.

That smile did it. Natalie instantly pulled her gun and trained it directly at Tiffany's head.

"Alright, you smarmy bitch. Where the hell are we?"

*SPN SPN SPN*

Sam's hand touched a doorknob at random. He knew he had to try another out, but after his last encounter, he was shaken. He steeled himself, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

To his immense surprise, the room inside was almost exactly like the one he had fallen asleep in with his family last night. Except this room was facing the parking lot- theirs hadn't been. Morning sunlight streamed through the window, confirming that, in this room at least, it was still early in the day. He noticed a few duffle bags laying around, but there was still no sign of life in the room. He crept over towards the window cautiously, and looked out.

There were no signs of life in the parking lot either- no one getting in or out of cars, exiting the building, anything. Where were all the people?

Sam looked up at the hotel sign. It looked just like it had last night when they pulled in.

Fort Lilac

One Hi A-

"nd you'll never leave!"

He tilted his head. Something was off about the sign. As he studied it, he realized that he hadn't noticed the bizarre break up of the word "and" before. In addition, the way the slogan had been placed on the sign seemed, last night, to make sense, but now, he saw it in a different light. His brain struggled to figure out the pieces of the puzzle that was directly in front of him.

Suddenly, in one stomach churning moment, he got it. "It's an anagram," he whispered to no one.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Dean couldn't catch his breath. The dog's words were resonating in the room still. The terrible fear that he kept locked up in his mind-that he tried not to acknowledge except when forced to- was currently sitting in front of him, licking its paws.

"You…you don't know…" he stammered out incoherently. "You don't know about my family. They'll never leave me."

"Just like you thought Sam would never actually leave and go to college. Just like Jamie would never abandon her own daughter. Just like your own father died saving your soul, leaving you and Sam so terribly alone."

"Stop it."

"I'm sorry, Dean. But you have to realize where you are, and what is happening. That will help you come to terms with everything that is now surrounding you. Think about what you've seen in the last twenty-four hours. You're smart. You can figure this out," the dog said without a trace of animosity. In fact, its words were almost encouraging.

Dean tried to calm his quaking mind. He thought back to pulling into the motel- to parking Baby next to a Benz. A Mercedes Benz. Something about that rang a bell. Suddenly, image after image flooded his mind. A lit-up candle to show the way. A spirit not seen since 1969. Gathered….for the feast.

Dean's eyes dropped again to the knife still on the floor. Without a shadow of a doubt, he knew that it was a steel knife- not silver like he'd hoped.

"No," he muttered. "No way. No freaking way am I trapped in an Eagles' song."

*SPN SPN SPN*

Tiffany looked at the handgun pointed directly at her forehead and smiled.

"I said, where are we?" Natalie shouted at her. Tiffany's smile only grew as she answered.

"Welcome to the Hotel California."


	61. Prisoners of Our Own Devices Part Three

**Hey hey hey! Good Morning! Who's ready for part 3?**

 **A thousand thank yous to all of you who read, review, follow, favorite, all that good stuff. I appreciate your feedback and support- you all are the best. Hats off to the best beta and friend in the land, Jenmm31. Go check out her stories if you haven't already!**

 **So as you probably deduced from this story, I'm really into music, lol. I was listening to this song one day and the whole story popped into my head. That often happens for me- Natalie was actually born out of the song "Sweet Child of Mine" by the incomparable Guns and Roses. But this is my second favorite song, so thank you for letting me play around with it. Part of the idea came from a suggestion in a review that I do a call-back to a very, very fine episode from SPN season 12 with a little twist on it. Thank you for the suggestion! I'm always still taking requests for stories. If you can be patient with me, I'll write you a story!**

 **Thank you for being you. You're brilliant at it, and the best you in the world. :)**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is 16. This is part 3 of a 3 part story. If you haven't read the previous two chapters, please do, otherwise this ain't gonna make a lick of sense. Please see profile page for disclaimers.**

Natalie just stared, completely taken by surprise. "The….what?"

"The Hotel California," Tiffany replied smoothly, her perfect smile creeping across her lovely mouth.

Natalie shook her head, still not believing what she was hearing. "That's….that's just a song," she finally stammered out feebly. Tiffany sighed patiently.

"No, clearly, it's not," she said. She walked around the counter towards Natalie, who instantly drew her gun and trained it on Tiffany again. The concierge just smiled and tilted her head. "Go ahead. Try it," she said, gesturing to the gun. "You know, as smart as you are, I'm surprised it took you this long to catch on. I thought you'd be the first one to get it." Natalie's confused look prompted Tiffany to explain further. "Your father and your uncle have figured it out by now."

At the mention of her family, Natalie squeezed her gun harder. "Where are they?" she yelled.

Tiffany brushed an invisible speck of dust off the counter before answering. "They're here. But you won't find them."

"Try and stop me," Natalie snarled.

"I don't need to. Pretty soon, you won't even remember your name, let alone who they were."

"You wanna explain that, or do you just want me to fill you so full of holes that people could play ski ball on you?"

"Actually, I don't want to explain. I just want to watch you figure it out. After all the stories, the legends, the rumors- I'm dying to watch the great Natalie Winchester in action."

Natalie stood up stock straight, she was so taken aback by Tiffany's comments. "What legends and rumors?" she asked, her confusion and temper mounting.

"Well, truth be told, more rumors than anything else. You've been kept very hidden for a long time. No one actually knew if you existed or not. Or at least, if they found out, they didn't keep the knowledge for long."

Natalie's eyes narrowed. She had no freaking clue what Tiffany was talking about, but she didn't want her to know that. Pretending that she knew what she was talking about, she tried to ask a leading question. "Did you take their knowledge?"

"Oh, no. My Hotel does that for me." Tiffany looked around at the walls and furniture. She lovingly grazed her hand across the black marble counter. "I just get to reap the rewards." She turned back to Natalie, a hungry look in her eyes. "See if you can figure it out. I have to know if you are what they say you are."

Natalie stepped back, still gripping the gun in one hand, but her head was spinning. What the hell was Tiffany talking about? WHO said she was WHAT? She shook her head. She couldn't figure that out now. She needed to assess the situation and find her father and uncle. She began thinking about the hear and now.

The Hotel California. The Eagles' song. She had heard it so many times. Dean even used to sing it to her when she was a baby as a lullaby. She started replaying the lyrics in her mind. They had been tired- driving- and suddenly saw….

' _up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light'._

They had all been extremely, inexplicably tired…

' _my head grew heavy and my sight grew dim- I had to stop for the night'._

As the lyrics came flooding back to her, something suddenly snapped into place.

' _Her mind was Tiffany twisted….'_

She glared at the concierge, who was still smiling hungrily at her, as if beckoning her to keep going. Natalie started instantly flipped through her mental catalogue of supernatural creatures. Only a couple monsters could twist people's minds like this. They had just taken one out. But then, Natalie realized- Tiffany said bullets couldn't hurt her. Djinns could be taken down with bullets. Natalie's eyes roamed around the room at the lovely Japanese art work and influences. It suddenly came together.

"You're an Oni. Japanese Djinn," Natalie spat at the woman. Tiffany clapped her hands delightedly.

"You DID figure it out! Well done!" Tiffany gushed enthusiastically. She chuckled a little when she noticed Natalie's eyes darting around the room. "Oh, by the way, you're not going to find what you're looking for."

"Excuse me?" Natalie barked out, focusing her narrowed eyes on the Oni once more.

"Do you really think that I'm going to keep soybeans or holly around?" Tiffany said patronizingly. Natalie gritted her teeth- how had Tiffany known that she was looking for those items that were known to kill Oni? Before she could come up with some witty retort, Tiffany continued speaking. "And I can't stand monkey statues. They do nothing for the ambiance."

Natalie exhaled heavily. So no monkey statues, soybeans, or holly- the only known ways to kill Oni. She was going to have to get creative. Just as she had that thought, Tiffany suddenly turned towards her, hands outstretched in delight.

"YES!" she shrieked. "Yes, that's what I want. Use your creativity. Get that brain going. Figure it all out." She looked so hungry and desperate. Trying to ignore the fact that the Oni was reading her mind, she had to ask the question, even if she was just stalling for time.

"Why? Does watching me figure out ways to kill you get you off or something? I would strongly recommend therapy, lady."

Tiffany laughed. "Ah, it's the sarcastic ones that fuel the best. I have to tell you, I'm getting a hell of a hit off your father right now." Tiffany's eyes sought Natalie's daring her to figure that puzzle out.

Natalie's eyes darted around the room again, desperately looking for some clue that would lead her to Dean's whereabouts. Tiffany's taunts had only strengthened her resolve to find him and Sam. Her eyes landed on a champagne bucket at the end of the counter. Instantly, she looked up- and saw her own reflection staring back at her.

' _Mirrors on the ceiling, pink champagne on ice, and she said, we are all just prisoners here of our own device'_

Natalie's brain spun out as it put the pieces together. Oni, like djinn, fed off of the human mind. They were all trapped here- in devices of their own makings. What ever their minds concocted that kept them trapped. Things that they felt, or kept secret, or even regrets- whatever it was that was the most incapacitating to each of them- that's what was going to keep them trapped. She instantly realized that Sam and Dean could easily be facing any number of horrific, soul shattering things. She had to find them.

She suddenly darted towards the hallway she had come from, but Tiffany blocked her way. "Another mental hurdle passed. Good." Tiffany eyed her up and down speculatively. "Not as quick as I would have expected, but then again, you have no idea of your true potential, so I supposed allowances can be made." Without appearing to move, Tiffany instantly closed the gap between herself and Natalie, latching onto the young girl's arm. "So tell me, Natalie. What is your device? What is it that keeps you trapped in your own mind?"

Natalie tried to close off her thoughts- tried to make her mind one big blank slate. But she was in the grips of a thousand year old Oni- literally. There was no escape.

"Ah. I see. You can't seem to let go of your guilt at those hunters' deaths," Tiffany whispered into her ear. Natalie pinched her eyes and her mouth shut, still desperately trying to close her mind. "Now, what did you father tell you about that last night?" Unbidden, the conversation in the hallway with Dean rose to her mind. Natalie shrieked wordlessly in frustration as Tiffany dug into her memories. "Ah yes. He told you that you need to forget it. Well, I have just the place for you."

Suddenly, Natalie found herself outside in the courtyard, surrounded by a throng of young men, dancing crazily. As she pushed her way through the sweaty dancers, trying to get back to the door to the lobby, she saw Tiffany standing on the other side of the glass door. With a sadistic smile, she watched as Tiffany turned the deadbolt, locking her out here. She fluttered her fingers at Natalie, and was gone.

Natalie reached into the small of her back to withdraw her gun and shoot her way out through the window, but there was nothing there. She had had a gun just a moment ago. Didn't she? Natalie had felt sure that almost a moment ago, she had a gun in her hands, but that memory seemed to be slipping through her mind like sand through a sieve. She patted down her pockets, but couldn't find….what had she been looking for?

Natalie shook her head and took a step to the left, trying to keep away from the courtyard of dancing men. Suddenly, another lyric came to her mind.

' _How they dance in the courtyard, sweet summer sweat, some dance to remember, some dance to forget'_

Natalie's heart stopped. She was trapped by the fact that she couldn't stop remembering what had happened. So that bitch was going to make her forget. She stumbled, frightened, looking for another door, an exit, anything. She tripped over a beer bottle, and fell right into the arms of a shirtless frat boy.

"Whoa," the boy said, standing her upright. "Sorry about that, little darling." Natalie couldn't answer- her eyes were darting around the courtyard in a panic. "Hey- hey sweetheart- you okay?" the boy asked, suddenly concerned.

She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "I…I think so," she said weakly. The frat boy grinned at her.

"Well, then it's my lucky day. You're pretty cute. What's your name?"

"I….don't know."

*SPN SPN SPN*

Sam's mind spun out. The sign was an anagram. And it spelled Hotel California.

"Is it even possible? How the hell does someone get trapped in a song?" he muttered out loud, desperately.

"Right idea, wrong creature," came a gruff voice from behind him. Sam spun away from the window. As soon as he got a look at the voice's owner, his knees turned to water. He grasped the window sill behind him for support. Even though he was seeing with his own eyes, he couldn't believe it.

"Dad?" he whispered.

John Winchester walked forward, his stoic, familiar look in place. A look that Sam hadn't seen in so long, but could never forget. John rubbed his bearded cheek and looked at his youngest son in bemusement.

"That's right Sammy. I'm surprised you didn't notice my truck out in the parking lot."

Not knowing what else to do, Sam whipped back around to the window. Where the Mercedes Benz had been the night before, a large, black truck had taken its place. He gulped and turned back to the image of his long-dead father.

"That's not real. You're just an illusion too, just like the other Natalie was," Sam said, not able to take his eyes from his father's face.

John tilted his head at Sam's words. "Who's Natalie?" he asked. "Is that your girlfriend?"

Sam shook his head. "No- Dad- that's Dean's daughter. Dean has a sixteen year old daughter." Sam expected his father to fly off the handle, or reach for a beer- his two go-to responses in times of stress. Instead, John just snorted and shook his head.

"Well, not in this reality, he doesn't. Damn kid. If I told him once, I told him a thousand times that he had to keep it wrapped if he was gonna play the field that much," John grumbled, almost to himself. He straightened up, and looked back at Sam. "That doesn't matter now, soldier."

At hearing the horribly familiar moniker, Sam's hackles instantly raised. "Dad, I'm not a soldier. I never have been."

"That's where you're wrong, Sammy," John spat instantly at his youngest. "Use that brilliant brain of yours and figure out what's going on."

"I'm in the song Hotel California."

"For god's sake, Sam, get your head in the game. You're smarter than that. You can't be trapped in a song. But you can be trapped in a monster's den who just happens to have a fondness for classic rock."

Sam's mind took John's insults and started turning them into facts, like always. He listened through the words and grasped the meaning.

"You're….you're what would have happened if I chose to stay with you and Dean instead of going to Stanford," Sam finally said hoarsely as the truth came crashing in.

John gave him a rare smile. "There you go. See? I always knew you were the smartest one out of all three of us. Sammy, you were always so bright- so brilliant. Why didn't you stay with us? Didn't you know how much your brother and I needed you?"

"You didn't need me. You just wanted another soldier," Sam replied bitterly.

"You're damn right. You can't win a war with only two people, son. We were better together. I might still be alive today." John's dark eyes suddenly turned cold. "If it weren't for you."

Hearing those words, Sam's guts instantly turned to ice. He bolted past his father for the door, yanked it open, and threw himself back into the hallway. The starkness of it was almost soothing after the run in with the image of his father. Sam looked desperately up and down the hallway. One of these had to be the way out. His mind felt twisted- he had to find his way back to the place he was before.

At random, his hand hit a knob, and without thinking, he shoved the door open with a crash. He once again found himself in a darkened bedroom. The look, the smell, the feel of it was all instantly recognizable to him. A chill of dread shook him to his core.

"No," he whimpered softly to himself. "No, please not this."

"Sam…." He closed his eyes against the tears that were already threatening to pour out. As much as he didn't want to, he looked up towards the source of the voice that had called his name.

There she was as he last saw her. Pinned to the ceiling, her nightgown dripping blood, her blonde hair splayed and plastered to the ceiling's surface.

"Do you know that this wouldn't have happened if you'd made the choice to stay with me?" Jess whispered. The ceiling exploded in flames.

Sam couldn't answer- he blindly turned and stumbled towards the door, running with all his might.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Dean's breath came in shallow gasps. He had been chasing this creature around the dining room for what felt like hours. He finally had to stop, simply too exhausted to carry on. He dropped to his knees, gulping in air.

The dog approached him, seeming to be perfectly content. Dean glared at the creature, incredibly annoyed.

"Seriously?" he spat out between gasps of air. "You're not even breathing heavily?"

The dog appeared to have an amused look on his face. "I keep telling you, there's nothing you can do. I'm not trying to hurt you, and I do wish you'd stop tiring yourself out trying to hurt me. You can't."

Not for the first time did Dean replay the lyric that was circulating in his head.

' _They stab it with their steely knives, but they just can't kill the beast'_

He dismissed the thought. "Trust me, if there's a way to kill you, I'm gonna find it," Dean thundered at the dog.

"Well, if you suppose you must. How long exactly do you think it's going to take for you to give up? I really would like my belly scratched, and with you chasing me, that's damned near impossible."

"I'm not scratching anything on you, ya freaking talking dog. I want out of here so I can go find my daughter and brother and get the hell out of here."

"I'm sincerely hoping that this won't take more than a week, but you ARE Dean Winchester. You're stubborn enough to drag this out for years, aren't you?"

Dean wouldn't give him the satisfaction of answering. He was trapped here with only his deepest fear keeping him company. However, the terror of not knowing what was happening to Sam and Natalie was growing by leaps and bounds.

As if the dog could read his mind, he sighed heavily and trotted over towards the windows. "Maybe this will help you to realize that it's pointless to worry," the dog said anxiously. He took the cord to the window shade in his mouth and pulled. Through the window, Dean could see the lush courtyard. Not being sure what the dog was getting at, he walked tentatively over to see what he could see.

The courtyard was still full of the drunk and rowdy frat boys, dancing away. Dean was about to turn and curse the dog out for making him look on all these idiots making jackasses out of themselves, when he suddenly saw her. Dean plastered his hands against the windows, smacking the glass hard to get her attention.

"NATALIE!" he screamed. She appeared not to have heard him. She was too busy dancing with some shirtless douchebag. Dean gritted his teeth. He told her to stay away from those horny morons, and here she was, living it up while he was trapped in a room with a talking hellhound. She was going to be grounded until she was dead for this one.

He smacked the window again, trying to get her attention. "NATALIE GRACE!" he bellowed. "GET YOUR ASS AWAY FROM HIM!" She continued dancing. A sudden thought occurred to him. As much as he didn't want to, he turned to the dog for answers. "She can't hear me, can she?" he said gruffly.

"Oh, no. She can hear you. She just doesn't realize that you're talking to her."

The fury in Dean's veins suddenly turned to ice. What did he mean, she didn't know he was talking to her? Just then, the shirtless douchebag caught his eye. Dean hammered on the window again. He watched the boy focus Natalie's attention, then pointed to the window. Natalie finally turned her head and looked at her father. He gestured for her to get closer to the window furiously. She cautiously walked in his direction.

"Um, hi?" she said, smiling at him benignly.

"UM, HI?!" Dean yelled back. "Natalie, what did I tell you about going out with those drunken idiots?! Do you have any idea how much trouble you're in, little girl?"

She shook her head, and looked at him like he was a crazy hobo yelling things on the street. "I'm sorry, who are you?" she asked, the smile on her face forced.

Dean's knees collapsed. She didn't know. She didn't remember who he was. The lyric about dancing to forget swam through his mind. He pinched his eyes shut, knowing an ache that he had never known before. Before he could do or say anything else, she turned her back on him and disappeared again in the crowd.

The dog carefully sat down beside him. "I tried to warn you, Dean. There's no escaping this place. It's just you and me now."

Dean's sobs echoed through the dining room. The dog gently nudged under Dean's arm. Desperately needing comfort, Dean latched on to Nobody.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Tiffany couldn't have been happier. She had three fresh, new hunters in her grasp. And not just any hunters- the Winchesters. All three. As their minds and fears seeped from their various locations into her being, she felt strong- powerful- well fed. A feeling she hadn't enjoyed in a long time. She had taken every possible precaution to keep them trapped here. They had no means to kill her, and the hotel was warded in more ways than even the Winchesters knew were possible. They were well and truly hers- forever.

The phone at the front desk rang. She bounced over from the courtyard window where she had been quietly watching Natalie, almost skipping in her delight. She picked up the phone with her perfectly manicured hand.

"Fort Lilac- One hi and you'll…."

" _Hello, Tiffany."_

She almost dropped the phone. She knew that voice. She hadn't heard it in so long, but there was no mistaking it. You never forgot _that_ voice. Trembling, she raised the receiver back to her ear.

"I…I thought you said you were going to forget this number."

" _I said I would lose this number. And guess what. I found it."_

Tiffany gritted her teeth. "So what do you want?" She realized the tone she was using and quickly amended it. "Sir?" she said, more politely.

" _You need to let them go."_

"Let who go?"

" _Are you really going to try this with me? I'm…you know…ME. I know everything."_

"But Sir, I…"

" _This isn't a negotiation. Let them go. All of them."_

"Can't I just keep the girl? Please?"

" _No, you may not. Especially not her."_

"So the rumors are true."

" _As for those rumors, they're not even close to what you're thinking or what you've heard. But you will let her go. You will let all of them go, intact, and you will not bother them again. Or I will ensure that they will each find a sprig of holly in their hands."_

She gritted her teeth. She had no choice- if she wanted to live. "As you wish," she muttered, low.

CLICK.

She gripped the phone tightly in her hand before slamming down the receiver. She finally, FINALLY had the Winchesters, and now….Well, she knew better than to call _his_ bluff.

She reached out and tapped the doorman's bell on the counter.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Suddenly, all three Winchesters found themselves on a dark, desert highway, back in the Impala, roaring down the road. The second Dean got his bearings and realized where he was, he slammed on the brakes, thrusting them all forward violently. He slammed the car into park and looked behind him into the back seat.

"Natalie?" he barked loudly, reaching his hand towards her. She was winded from the jerk of her seatbelt on her gut, but she gasped out the most beautiful words Dean had ever heard her say.

"What the hell was that about, Dad?" she wheezed, trying to re-inflate her lungs.

"You know who I am," Dean said, wanting confirmation first.

"Of course I do-" she said, then suddenly cut short. It was all flooding back to her. The hotel, being transported into the courtyard, the shirtless frat boy- and how she suddenly couldn't remember who she was. She looked up, terror in her eyes, and gripped Dean's outstretched hand tightly.

"You're okay," he instantly said, gripping her back tightly, knowing she was on the verge of a freak out. "I've got you, Baby Girl. You're okay." He looked to his brother. "Sammy, you okay?"

Sam's hands were outstretched against the dashboard, where he had tried to stop himself from the sudden thrust forward. He gulped in air, but turned to look at his brother. "Yeah," he gasped out. "Yeah, I'm okay. Are you? Dean, are you okay?"

Dean just nodded. The relief of having both his daughter and his brother back in the safety of the Impala was causing his throat to close up and his eyes to water. Sam reached out and clapped him on the shoulder in support.

"What happened?" Sam finally said, weakly. "Last thing I remember, I was…"

"Running for the door?" Dean said dryly, finishing his sentence. "We were stuck in a fucking Eagles song, that's what happened."

"No, that wasn't just it," Natalie said, still gripping Dean for dear life. "Tiffany was a Oni."

"One of those Japanese demon things?"

"Yeah. She just used the Hotel California as inspiration."

"Either that," Sam mused. "Or Glenn Frey had a run in with her that he wrote a song about."

"Well, whatever the hell just happened, I sure am glad to see you two," Dean said, looking back and forth between them. "Natalie, how did you end up in the courtyard?"

Natalie gritted her teeth. "Tiffany transported me out there. Believe me, I wouldn't have gone out there on my own."

Dean nodded. "Good girl. Sam, where were you?"

"I was in a corridor. I kept having to- well, let's just say that I had to face some serious moments up there," Sam said, not wanting to reveal what he had just seen.

Dean snorted. "Tell me about it. I was trapped in the dining room with a damn talking dog that I couldn't kill."

"-They just can't kill the beast," Natalie murmured quietly, before grinning. "Didn't stop you from trying, though, did it?" Dean shook his head, smiling back.

"You know me too well. But you remember everything, right? No gaps- it's all there?" he asked, looking at her worriedly. She nodded.

"Yeah. I do. And I know now that I need to do what you say and find the balance between what I let my mind think about while hunting."

"I think that was the lesson we all learned," Sam said quietly. They all turned back towards the front, sitting quietly as the car rumbled in park on the lonely, dusty road. Finally, needing to move, Dean threw open the door and went around to the back. Natalie turned in her seat and watched as her father opened the trunk to check the contents. After a moment, he came back, dropping heavily into the driver's seat.

"Well, it's all there. All our stuff," he said. He turned back to the others. "What do you say- you guys wanna go cool it at Bobby's for a while?"

"That sounds amazing," Natalie moaned, leaning her head back and finally relaxing.

"Then let's kick it." Dean squealed Baby's tires and she peeled out, just as happy as them to get away from the nightmare behind them. After about five minutes of solid silence, Sam finally asked the question they were all trying to figure out.

"How did we get out?" he asked quietly. He turned and looked at his niece. She shrugged.

"Search me. I have no idea. If it had been Cas, he would have showed up to help- not operated from a distance. Not his style."

"Well, something intervened for us," Dean said, breaking into the conversation. "And if I ever figure out who it is, I'm going to send them a big bottle of something very liquor-y."

"As long as it's not pink champagne on ice, I think we're good."

The radio was silent as they raced home.


	62. New Tricks

**What up, gorgeous SPN family?**

 **I'm going to warn you, straight up. This one is pure fluff, lol. I needed something sweet and sappy after that last case story, sorry 'bout it :)**

 **Special thanks to the wonderful and amazing Jenmm31. Go show her some love by checking out her amazing stories!**

 **Thank you guys for being one of the things that helps me keep fighting. You all are amazing. Go out and keep being awesome.**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is a little over a year old. Please see profile page for disclaimers.**

The Impala pulled into a spot in the crowded parking lot of the restaurant. It was still relatively early morning- only about 8:30, but the place was packed.

"Hm. Looks like IHOP is hoppin'," Dean commented, looking over at Sam with his typical shit-eating grin. He was met with pursed lips and a side eye. Oh well. Sam never could really appreciate his humor, anyways. He turned around and looked at his one year old daughter, strapped into her car seat.

"What do you think, squirt? Want some pancakes?" he asked her. However, still being unable to form full sentences yet, Natalie just waved at him. "I'll take that for a yes," he said. He climbed out of the car and sprinted around to the other side to get her out.

As Sam was opening his door, he looked up at the familiar blue and white sign. "You do know that they serve other stuff- not just pancakes?" he said, trying to subtly hint his true motives in bringing that up to Dean. As usual, Dean ignored them completely.

"It's called the International House of Pancakes for a reason, Samuel. Pancakes are their specialty."

"Well, they also do eggs, fruit, oatmeal-"

"Don't worry. I plan on avoiding all that."

"Yeah, but Natalie shouldn't. You really should think about-"

"Sammy, don't say it."

"-getting her something healthy to eat."

Dean looked at the child in his arms, and started wrinkling his nose for her amusement. "He said it, Natalie. Uncle Sammy really needs to learn to listen." Giggling at her father's antics, Natalie parroted the word, as she was wont to do these days.

"Listen!" she squealed loudly, clapping her hands at her own accomplishment. Dean grinned at her then looked back at his brother.

"See? Out of the mouth of babes."

"All I'm saying is that you should think about her well being. Fruits and proteins like eggs are really good for this developmental stage."

Dean nodded. "You're right. Chocolate chip pancakes it is." Sam just sighed.

They walked into the crowded restaurant. Despite the fullness of the parking lot, Dean could see a couple empty booths. He quietly breathed a sigh of relief. Now that Natalie was walking and running, it was getting harder and harder to keep her still. If they told her to stay put, she would listen- quite well for a child of her age- but was just so full of energy and mischief that she couldn't contain herself for long. It would be much easier to keep her butt in a booth if there was food in front of her.

"How many please?" said the hostess at the stand, gathering menus while doing a quick size up of the two handsome men in front of her.

"Two plus a baby," Sam answered.

"Would you like a booster seat or a high chair?" she asked.

"Neither. She'll sit next to me," Dean said quickly. Both of them turned and looked at him like he was nuts.

"Dean, we really should get her a high chair," Sam said emphatically, suddenly picturing the already hyperactive toddler set loose in a restaurant known for its sugar coma-inducing menu. Dean waved his hand in dismissal.

"Naw, she'll stay put if I tell her to," he said, confidently. The hostess's raised eyebrows quickly smoothed back into a practiced smile.

"Okay, then. Right this way, gentlemen," she said, turning around and going to her left. Sam looked back at Dean once more as if to say _you sure?_ But Dean just gave him a bitch face and kept walking. The truth was that last night while Sam was wrapping up loose ends on their case, he'd taken Natalie to a greasy spoon for dinner. He'd gotten her a high chair, like usual, but when Dean had gone to lift Natalie out of it after their meal, he discovered that she'd been sitting in something gray, sticky, and unidentifiable. He had given Natalie three baths last night, completely in a panic that she might have caught some weird truck stop disease, and vowed never to use a restaurant high chair again. No way was he going to admit his fear to his brother, though. He had a reputation to maintain.

The hostess sat them at a booth towards the back of the restaurant. Dean quickly plopped Natalie down on the seat next to him, between himself and the wall. She stood up quickly on the seat to get a better vantage point. As she visually explored her new surroundings, Sam slid into the other side.

"Dean, are you sure it's a good idea to let her sit on the seat? I mean, she can't even reach the table when she's sitting down," he said anxiously.

Dean pointed to his standing child. "Problem solved."

"She's gonna develop bad habits that way."

"Sam. We live out of a suitcase and eat in nothing but diners where the majority of the menu items are covered in gravy. Which particular bad habit you wanna tackle first?"

Sam rolled his eyes and opened his menu. He was pleased to see that there were quite a few healthier options now than when he was a kid. He was determined to order a side of fruit and make sure that Natalie got at least something healthy this meal. Dean was just searching for whatever came with the most bacon.

Meanwhile, Natalie was getting bored with her surroundings. She turned to Dean and squawked wordlessly to get his attention. However, being only one, she didn't fully realize her lung power and nearly burst his eardrum. He reared away from her, partial out of the decibel level, but mostly because she scared him with her sudden yell. Sam snorted a laugh.

Dean turned to her and put a finger on her lips. "Hey. No yelling," he said, looking the baby right in the eye. "Got it?" Natalie looked abashed for a moment, but then yelped again, much softer this time. "That's better," Dean said. "What do you want, squirt?" Sam watched the entire exchange, smiling gently. Dean was like the Baby Whisperer. Somehow, Natalie understood what he was saying, almost every time, and he understood her right back.

"Up!" she said, holding her arms out to Dean. He pulled her into his arms, but there wasn't that much room for her to go anywhere between his torso and the table. She grumbled in displeasure, but then started trying to climb him. After grabbing a handful of hair to pull herself to better heights, Dean quickly set her back down, groaning as she still had a pretty good grip on his scalp.

"Nope. Not climbing Mount Daddy right now," he said, rubbing the side of his head where she pulled. She whined for a moment.

"Daddy- up!" she said again, this time grabbing the shoulder of his leather jacket to try to hoist herself up. Dean turned and grabbed her tiny hands, looking her full in the face again.

"Natalie, I said no," he said sternly. Her little face crumpled into a pout. With a huff, she sat down hard on the seat. Dean looked down at her, and a small smile crossed his face. He knew she was mad, but dammit, it was so funny when she pouted like that.

Just then, their waitress came over. Sam placed an order for an egg white omelet with spinach and tomatoes, with a side of fruit. After pretending to gag, Dean placed his order for the Bacon Lover's omelet with a side of bacon. He ordered Natalie a chocolate chip pancake, knowing it would combine two of her favorite things.

After waving bye to the waitress as she left the table, Natalie's bad mood dissipated. She hopped back up on the seat, ready to explore again. She reached towards the pretty, shiny flatware, but almost in tandem, both Dean and Sam removed them from her reach. She pursed her lips, displeased, and reached for the salt shaker instead. Dean glanced sideways at her briefly as he and Sam continued to discuss the newest case they were heading for. He didn't see what harm she could do with a salt shaker, so he let it be.

At first, she was engrossed by the sound of the granules shaking, giggling delightedly every time she shook it. But then she discovered the joy of turning it sideways. Once she discovered that stuff came OUT when she did that, oh, it was on. She carefully tilted the bottle, trying to catch as many salt crystals as she could. She went slowly at first, but got the hang of it pretty quickly. It was only her squeal of delight from getting an entire handful that caused Sam to realize what she was doing, and reach across the table to take it from her.

She wanted to yell again, but she remembered that Daddy didn't like that. She sighed heavily and angrily, causing Sam to chuckle. "Man, she sounds like you when she does that," he commented to Dean with a grin.

"Ha, ha."

As Daddy and Uncle Sam continued talking, she bounced her legs a couple times. It felt good to not have to sit. She had to sit in the car all the time, strapped in so she couldn't move. She had to make the most of her freedom. She started bouncing harder. Dean was too used to her hyperactivity to let it bother him. She continued to bounce until one of her feet slipped a bit, causing her to plop down hard on her butt. Dean quickly turned to her then, concerned by her sudden fall.

"Hey kiddo- you okay?" he said, worried that she may have hit her head on the table. Her eyes were welling up with tears as the sudden movement scared her, but then she realized that both of her feet were swinging underneath the table. She ducked her head underneath to examine this more closely. "Guess that's a yes," Dean muttered to himself before returning to his conversation with Sam.

Underneath the table was an entirely different world. Natalie oh-so-carefully slid herself off the seat, flipping around so she slid down on her stomach. It was dark under here, but she could stand up. As she squealed again at her discovery, she watched Dean's long leg shoot across to the other end of the booth, accidentally kicking Sam.

"Ow!" Natalie heard from up above. "What'd you kick me for?"

"Oh, sorry Sammy. Trying to make a blockade for the kid."

"If you were really sorry, you wouldn't be smiling while you apologized."

Natalie ignored the rest of the conversation, exploring the world beneath the table. She did try to expand her territory by pushing on Dean's leg, but he wasn't yielding. So she simply went the other way. She trotted to the other end of the booth, and was delighted when she saw her uncle smiling down on her.

"Unca Sam!" she said, feeling as if she'd found the Ark of the Covenant. His grin widened.

"Well, hey there, cutie. Whatcha doing?" he asked. Instead of answering, Natalie turned back around and ran to the other side, poking her head out from under the table to make sure her father was still there. He looked down on her, sticking his tongue out and causing her to laugh.

"Can I help you?" Dean said. She just giggled and ducked under again, before tearing back to the other side, where Sam was waiting.

"Boo!" he said. That caused the child to shriek with joy, dropping back down under the table. This went on for a good couple minutes, eventually progressing to Natalie reaching one hand up and waving to whoever happened to be across the table from her at the time.

Finally, the waitress came back, delivering their breakfasts. Being very familiar with what it was like trying to eat with a baby around, both Dean and Sam tried to shovel in as much food as they could before she got bored with her game and decided to invade the topside of the table. Eventually, she smelled the chocolate in the pancake and came tearing back to Dean's side. She hoisted herself up onto the seat with much grunting and what Dean called "baby swearing". She would make these hilarious non-words noises when she was frustrated. Dean couldn't wait till she started swearing for real. It was going to be hysterical.

When she positioned herself back on the seat, she stood up to get a better view of her food. Dean reached over and started tearing it into small, manageable bites for her with his knife and fork.

"Uh, Dean, you may want to feed her, she'll-" Sam began hurriedly, but it was too late. Natalie grabbed a handful of the melty chocolate pancake and shoved it in her mouth, leaving sweet dark brown streaks on her hands and face. Oh well. It was bound to happen sooner or later.

Dean snatched a fork, speared another bite, and held it up to her. "Here, squirt. Uncle Sam wants you to eat like a civilized mortal." Natalie leaned forward obediently and ate the proffered bite, chewing happily. Dean loved the way her eyes lit up when she was eating something she liked. It warmed his leathery heart and made him feel just a bit more human. He continued to feed her bites with her licking the chocolate off her hands in between.

After she'd had enough to eat, she stood there patiently while Uncle Sam insisted that Daddy wipe her face off. She didn't like it, but they told her to stay put, so she did. When it was done, she immediately slipped back under the table- back to her hidden world. She ran over to Sam's side, sticking her head up just enough to catch Sam's eye, but he was too busy eating to play with her.

"Unca Sam!" she said loudly, thinking that he might not realize that she was there. Sam did indeed turn to her, but it wasn't with a playful, happy look.

"Natalie. Inside voice, please," he scolded quietly. She wrinkled her nose back at him, trying to look cute, but he just turned his attention back to his food. Now ticked that she wasn't getting her playmate's full and undivided attention, she pulled herself up onto the seat next to him. She tilted her head and examined the plate before him. It smelled funny, but Uncle Sam seemed to be enjoying it. Her baby hands reached towards the small bowl of fruit next to him. He quickly intercepted her before she could scatter it all over the table.

"Here," he said, spearing a piece of melon with his fork to give to her. But she clearly wanted to do it herself. The moment he let go of her hands, quick as lightning she reached into the bowl and plucked out a grape, popping it in her mouth. Sam's face immediately went into bitch mode, but Dean laughed.

"Well, you wanted her to eat fruit, Sammy. You got your wish," he chortled. At that moment, Natalie made a grab for another piece of fruit, but Sam caught her this time.

"No, Natalie. You don't grab like that. Here. Try this," he said, holding up the small piece of watermelon that he had forked earlier. After carefully sniffing it, Natalie bit it off the end of the fork. Her eyes lit up at the crunchy sweetness in her mouth. Sam grinned triumphantly at his brother.

"See? She likes fruit too," he said, feeling like a proud parent himself. He didn't notice Natalie slipping down under the table again. She didn't want to eat off the fork. She wanted to feed herself. She reached up from underneath the table.

Dean saw the small hand poking up again, and thought she was going to wave. Instead, she reached back towards the bowl of fruit, grunting in baby swears. He couldn't figure out what she was playing at until her hand suddenly connected with a piece of apple. She snatched it and the hand disappeared back underneath the table.

Dean could barely control his laughter. "That little brat totally just ninja'd the hell out of you, Sammy," he mocked. Suddenly, a little hand shot up from underneath his side and snatched a piece of bacon off his plate. "Hey!" he yelled. His laughing stopped, but Sam's began.

"All right, you little Bacon Bandit," Dean grumbled playfully, ducking his head underneath the table to try to catch her. She had darted back to Sam's side, but her eyes were sparkling at the little game she'd created. He made a funny face at her. "You know, you're lucky you're really damned cute. Otherwise, anyone who steals my bacon would get drawn and quartered," he said. She bent her legs and clapped her hands, almost daring Dean to try to come down there and get her. When he failed to do so, choosing to go back to eating, she reached up and snatched a tomato off Sam's plate, then went back for more bacon. However, before she could procure a piece, Dean suddenly seized her around the waist and carefully pulled her up from underneath the table. He stood her next to him on the seat.

"Now, if you're gonna start stealing food, you're gonna at least say the word first," he explained to the wide-eyed child. He pointed to a piece of bacon still on his plate. "Come on. Bacon. Say it. Bacon," he said to her. He watched as she realized what it was he was wanting her to do. She pointed to the bacon again, but this time, swung around to watch his lips. "Bacon," he said again, slowly and carefully.

"Bay…."

"-Con. Bacon."

"Bay…" she pointed imperiously towards the piece again. Dean repeated the word many more times, but eventually she was finally able to spit out the word.

"Bacon!"

"That's my girl!"

"Bacon, bacon, bacon!"

Sam chuckled. "You do realize that now that's all we're gonna hear for the next ten hours?"

Dean shrugged with a smile. "There are worse words. Imagine if she'd learned to say 'condom'."

"Dean!"

Dean turned his attention back to Natalie in order to turn out Sam's bitching. "That feat deserves a piece of…" he trailed off as he held up the bacon strip, wanting her to say it. Natalie pointed at it.

"Bacon!" she said proudly. Dean's grin nearly split his face in two. He tore off a piece that she could handle, and put it in her hands.

"There you go. You know, I think you're the first girl I've ever shared my bacon with," he said to his daughter who was happily munching away. He leaned over, right into her face. "That's a high honor, you know," he said with a saucy grin.

As if she understood him, she put her greasy and chocolaty hands on either side of his face and kissed his nose. "Tank you," she said sweetly. Dean's heart felt as melty as his face.


	63. Turkey Day Part One

**Howdy, you gorgeous SPN fan, you. You're looking good!**

 **I had the inspiration to write this story right after Thanksgiving last year, but I had to wait a year for it to come back, ha ha. This is a bit of a departure for me for three reasons. One, it's only a two-part , it fulfills a need for something I've desperately needed to see on Supernatural, and I don't think I'll ever get. But we'll see. I'm not giving away any more than that right now, you'll have to stay tuned. And three, it's my first attempt at two characters that are beloved in the SPN universe, but new to me as a writer. Be kind.**

 **Special thanks to Jenmm31- she really helped me craft this and see the pitfalls here, and helped me to navigate around them. I owe her so much- I'm thankful for HER. :)**

 **Thanks also to all of you who don't give up on me. You are incredible. Happy Thanksgiving- may you always be happy to be a part of this family.**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is 6. This is part one of a two part story. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

 _Thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud…_

"Natalie, quit runnin'!" Bobby bellowed from the kitchen. The pounding of her little feet in the next room instantly stopped. He shook his head. "Why I can't get that through that child's head is beyond me," he growled quietly.

"Oh, Bobby, leave her alone," Jody said, pulling the pan of stuffing out of her oven and placing it quickly on the overcrowded stove top. "She's not hurting anything. Besides, she'll run out her energy soon enough."

Bobby snorted in disbelief. "Well, unless the kid's been possessed by something and you ain't told me about it, there is no 'running out of energy' with her. She don't got no off switch. And believe me, I've looked."

Jody laughed softly. "I will admit, she's got more go-go-go than most kids her age." She pulled the boiling pot of potatoes off the burner, using both hands. Bobby hauled himself off his stool where he had been keeping watch to help her by turning the dial off. "Thank you," she said, carrying the large pot over to the sink. She carefully poured the hot water into the sink, draining the pot. "Are you still doing okay without her being there all the time?" Jody asked, keeping her eyes on her task.

Bobby shrugged. "It's a hell of a lot quieter without her around."

"That can be a huge change. I get it."

"I didn't say it was a problem."

Jody rolled her eyes and chuckled again. "C'mon. You know what I mean."

He finally acquiesced. "Yeah, I'm fine. Now that I'm out of that damn chair, I can take care of a lot of crap now that I couldn't before. It's great not having to rely on a six year old," he commented dryly.

Jody suppressed her smile. "Sam says she's doing well on the road with them. Apparently, she's testing at a third grade level in reading."

"No surprise there. Kid reads anything she can get her dirty little hands on."

Just then, Sam walked into the kitchen. "Well, the parade's over," he commented with a relaxed grin- a look not usually found on Sam Winchester's face.

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and sounds like Natalie started her own up and down the hallways." Sam's grin widened. Just then, Natalie herself came tearing into the kitchen, screeching to a halt before plowing into Sam's legs. Bobby raised an eyebrow at her, which she pretended not to notice.

"It's Christmas Time!" she shrieked in joy, throwing her arms up in the air.

"Bug, take it down a few notches," Sam said gently. "And what do you mean? Today's Thanksgiving. We haven't even had Thanksgiving dinner yet."

Natalie shook her head vigorously. "No, I mean that Santa came down that big road in New York after all the balloons, so that means it's Christmas!" She clapped her hands with overenthusiastic glee. She absolutely lived for holidays, Christmas being her personal favorite.

"Well, if you're already on to Christmas, I guess that means more turkey for me," Bobby said gruffly, trying to conceal the smile her excitement brought to his wrinkled old heart. She suddenly dropped the clapping and put her hands on her hips very dramatically.

"If you think I'm missing out on turkey, you've got another thing coming, Pops," she said sassily. All three adults snorted under their breath at her response. She instantly recovered her goodwill and went bouncing over to Jody. "Can I help you?" she asked, pointing to the pot. "Pretty please? I know how to do some kitchen stuff!"

"Oh, kitchen stuff, huh?" Jody said, gently teasing the little girl. "Well, okay then."

"Uh-" Sam said, holding his hand out towards Jody. "Let's not get too carried away here…"

Jody smiled her motherly smile at Sam- basically a combination of 'everything's going to be alright, dear' and 'slow your roll, nervous'. She turned to Natalie. "Go pull up a chair next to me, okay?" she instructed.

"Okay!" Natalie squealed delightedly, before going to do as bidden.

"Shame Alex can't be here today," Bobby commented offhandedly. Jody shrugged in response.

"She's working on some big project in one of her classes that's due right before the semester ends and she wanted to stay focused. It's okay- she'll be home for Christmas," Jody responded about her foster daughter.

"Where's Claire?" Sam asked, still wondering if it was wise to give a hyper active child cooking utensils as he kept one eye on the six year old dragging a chair in from the hallway.

"Sulking in her room," Jody said, turning to Sam with an air of frustration. Sam was taken aback.

"Sulking?" he asked, confused. "Why?" But Jody just shook her head and looked significantly at the child now pushing a chair over towards her. Sam understood that Jody didn't want to talk about it in front of Natalie, but that only furthered his curiosity. Before he could pursue it, though, Castiel walked into the kitchen, his usual confusion planted firmly on his face.

"Natalie, I still fail to see why that television program caused you such excitement," he said in his frank way, without so much as an intro. Natalie ceased her chair pushing to look up at the angel in her exasperated, six year old way.

"First off, Cas, it wasn't a TV show. It was a parade on TV."

"I fail to see the difference."

"Second off, didn't you like the balloons and the floats and stuff? Weren't they cool?"

"I still do not understand why humans celebrate surviving the plague and starvation of their first year in America by inflating large cartoon creatures and sending them down a street with department store employees tied to them."

"They're not tied. They're holding the strings so the balloons don't float away."

"That still does not explain the need for helium filled fictional characters."

Natalie finally achieved her goal in pushing the chair next to Jody, and climbed up with a certain aplomb. "What can I tell you. We're weird like that in America," she responded with a shrug of her tiny shoulders.

"That much is obvious. But-"

Sam clapped a hand on Castiel's shoulder. "Let it go, man. It's just one of those strange human rituals."

Cas shook his head and turned on his heel, heading out the door. "I am beginning to doubt that I will ever truly understand humanity," he muttered, heading back into the living room.

"And that's my cue as well," Bobby said, slapping his thighs and standing up. "Let's see what the angel makes of football," he said, giving an uncharacteristic devilish grin to Sam before heading out himself. Sam chuckled, and sat down in Bobby's vacated stool to keep an eye on his rambunctious niece.

"So what kind of 'kitchen stuff' do you know?" Jody asked Natalie, getting back down to brass tacks.

Looking very self-important, Natalie answered. "I know how to use knives and stuff."

Jody's eyebrows shot up to her hairline. "Really?" she stammered, with a glance at Sam. Sam shrugged apologetically. Natalie patted Jody's arm to get her full attention back.

"Yup. Dad's been teaching me to throw them, so Pops said I can use them, but only if a grown up is watching and I can't touch them without permission," she said seriously.

"So, you listen when Bobby tells you not to play with knives, but not when he tells you not to run in the house?" Sam said in a teasing tone. Natalie suddenly looked abashed.

"I stopped running when he told me too," she mumbled, avoiding Sam's gaze.

"Well, I don't think I need anything done with a knife, so you're off the hook there," Jody said, mentally making a note to have a word with Dean about what he was teaching his daughter. "How about you mash some potatoes?"

Natalie's eyes got wide as saucers. "That sounds AWESOME. How do I do it?"

Jody quickly withdrew an already skinned potato from the pot, rinsed it quickly in cool water, then placed it down on the cutting board and chopped it up. Natalie's eyes narrowed.

"You said you didn't need anything cut with a knife," she said accusingly- with just enough attitude to rub Sam the wrong way.

"Natalie," he said, quietly but firmly. The rebuke caused her to drop her attitude quickly, knowing that she had stepped in it.

"M'sorry, Jody," she said in a small voice.

"That's okay, Natalie," Jody said cheerily, pleased that at least Sam was trying to raise the kid right. "I should have been more clear. These potatoes are really hot, and they might burn your fingers, so I don't want you to touch them. Does that make sense?"

Natalie nodded, but looked concerned. "What if you get burned by the potatoes?" she asked anxiously.

Jody looked at her with a smile. "I'm a pretty fast chopper. I'll be okay."

Natalie nodded again, satisfied with that answer. "Okay. And if you get burned, I know how to fix it. I'm really good at helping Dad and Uncle Sam if they get burned or cut up when they're hunting."

"I bet they're glad to have you, then."

"Oh, yeah. I'm pretty much the best thing ever."

With a grin that was very unlikely to go away for the rest of the day, Jody set about showing Natalie how to mash the pieces of potato that she was dropping into the large bowl in front of the child. With all the enthusiasm of a six year old who loved to destroy things, Natalie began mashing away as if her life depended on it. Jody and Sam traded catching-up stories as they worked together to finish dinner. Jody kept chopping potatoes and dropping them into Natalie's bowl, where they would get demolished without abandon. Sam helped out by making the gravy and pulling the huge turkey out of the oven so Jody could baste it again. The banter and the talk was comfortable- Sam and Jody had always had a friendly shorthand that felt more like family.

After about ten minutes, Dean came sauntering into the kitchen, a bowl of candy corn in one hand and his mouth full. "You should see Cas trying to figure out the Cowboys game- it's freaking hilarious," he commented with a chuckle. Sam's smile widened as he imagined the confusion on the angel's face. He could almost hear Cas asking why it was called a "pigskin" when it looked nothing like a pig, when Dean suddenly pointed in between him and Jody. "So who's responsible for that?" he said, one eyebrow raised.

Confused, Sam answered him. "Responsible for what?"

Dean just pointed again. Sam and Jody turned around just in time to see a glob of white fluffy potato go sailing up in the air. Natalie was still hammering away at the bowl, completely content in the job she was doing. "OH!" Jody said loudly, scurrying over to the little girl. "Wow- Natalie- you did such a good job at this-" she commented, trying to keep her tone light as she observed the countertop and tiles around the bowl, covered in potato.

"I know!" Natalie shrieked delightedly. "I am so awesome at this. Hey Dad! Look!" she said, turning towards Dean and proudly showing off her accomplishment. Dean just nodded and chuckled.

"You definitely are the best at destroying potatoes, squirt."

"I know!"

"Natalie, hold still," Jody said, reaching a towel out towards her. "You've got mashed potato on your face." She gently wiped it off her. Natalie knew she was supposed to stand still when this happened, but it didn't stop her from rolling her eyes.

"Why are grown ups always wiping my face off?" she grumbled as she held still for Jody.

"Probably because you're a dirty little monkey," Dean said in a teasing tone. That made her giggle. The second Jody removed the last of the potato, she hopped down off her chair and ran over to Dean.

"I am not a dirty little monkey!" she said, laughing. Dean abandoned his bowl of candy corn on the counter and swung her up high in the air.

"Are too. Now let's see if we can use that dirty monkey nose to sniff out where Jody's hiding the pie, huh? What do you say?"

"Okay!" she shrieked excitedly, glad to be hanging out with her daddy. Jody shook her head.

"You're never going to find it."

"Challenge accepted."

"C'mon Dean. You really think I'm going to leave the pie anywhere that you can easily get to it? I wasn't born yesterday."

'That's why I had a kid. To sniff out hidden pie. She's earned her keep so far." He turned his attention to his daughter. "But if you fail on this one, I'm putting you out in the yard for the night."

Natalie laughed uproariously. "No you won't!"

Dean was just about to respond with yes he would, when something brushed against his shoulder. He turned as Claire pushed past him through the doorway. "Well, hey there," he said. Claire didn't answer him. "Good to see you too, kid," Dean commented sarcastically. She snatched an apple from the bowl on the counter and was about to make her way back towards the door.

"Claire," Jody said reproachingly. With a heavy, dramatic sigh, Claire turned back around. She planted an obviously fake smile on her face.

"Hello, Dean. Hello, Sam," she said in a monotone voice. She looked at Jody as if to say 'Good enough?' and was about to walk out of the kitchen again.

"Hi Claire!" Natalie said, waving at the teenage girl. At the sound of her voice, Claire's attitude shifted. She positively glared at the little girl in Dean's arms. Natalie, however, took absolutely no notice of this whatsoever. "We're gonna go find the pie! You wanna come with us?" she asked.

"No, I don't," came the dry reply.

Natalie looked surprised. She couldn't imagine anything more fun than hanging out with Dean while on the hunt for desserts. "Oh, okay," she said. "Well, you and I can play later if you want to."

"I really can't think of anything I'd rather do less," Claire snapped back at the six year old.

"Claire!" Jody scolded. Before Claire could give her a withering scowl too, Dean spoke up in a loud voice.

"That's okay, kiddo. I don't think Claire would be very good at playing right now, as she's being a grade-A…"

"Dean!" Sam scolded.

"…grumpy pants," Dean quickly amended his statement. He gave Natalie a peck on the temple. "Come on. Pie's waiting."

"Okay!" she said, not really realizing what was going on- still just happy to be on a mission with Dad. Dean carried Natalie out of the room. Not really knowing how to break the tension without setting Claire off, Jody spoke gently.

"Don't fill up, dinner's in a half hour," she said, pointing to the apple in Claire's hand. In defiance, Claire took a bite and stood there, chewing deliberately, waiting for Jody to make the next move.

"You're still joining us at the table, like it or not," Jody said quietly but firmly. Claire just rolled her eyes and stomped out of the kitchen. Once she was out of earshot, Jody sighed heavily herself, putting her hands on the kitchen island and her head down.

"What was that all about?" Sam asked, looking at the doorway where Claire had just exited.

"That's about a lot more than a couple therapy sessions could successfully cover," Jody muttered before looking back up at Sam. "She hasn't come right out and told me what's bothering her, but I have my theories."

Sam's eyebrows raised. "You think it's more than just crappy teenage attitude?" he asked bluntly.

"Who knows with her anymore. But this one seems pretty textbook," Jody replied. "It's the holidays. A time for family and loved ones- and she's spending it with a handful of hunters and someone who looks like her father…" Jody trailed off, her throat closing at the thought.

"But isn't," Sam finished softly. He shook his head in sympathy. "Yeah, I can see how that would be rough for her. I mean, her mom's only been gone- what- two years?"

"Yeah, about that long."

"But she hasn't really had a problem with Cas before, has she?"

Jody shrugged. "Not that I've noticed. He's not around that much- I get the sense that he knows that it hurts her when he's around."

"You think it hurts her?"

"How could it not? He's literally the shell of the man she used to call "dad". She's really good at hiding how she's truly feeling, but it doesn't take a genius to figure that that's gotta do a number on a kid, supernatural reasons or not."

Sam leaned back and looked at the doorway where Claire had just exited. "I guess I never really stopped to think about that. We didn't know Jimmy, just Cas. But she…"

"She has baby pictures with someone holding her that is now currently housing a member of Heaven's Army."

"Don't know that you can rightly call Cas that anymore, but I see what you're getting at."

Jody pressed the fingers of her right hand into her eyes, trying to rub away some of the tension. "When I told her that Cas was coming for Thanksgiving, she didn't believe me. I think she was honestly shocked that he showed up today."

"Natalie made him promise. They have some unspoken bond between the two of them- it's even stronger than his and Dean's."

"Well, it makes sense. Cas is Dean's self-appointed 'guardian angel'. And with Natalie being one of the two most important things in his life, it only seems logical."

"I guess," Sam said, shrugging. "Do you- do you want me to talk to Claire? See if I can shake her out of this funk?"

Jody shook her head. "I've been trying for the last three days. She's just shutting down, and I'm worried about pushing her further." Sam opened his mouth to reply, but Jody abruptly turned towards the oven. "Come on- I think the turkey's done. Help me lift it out, would you?"

*SPN SPN SPN*

About two hours later, when the clan of hunters had reduced the entirety of Jody's feast to bones and crumbs, they were all sitting around the table, unable to move.

"You know if something attacked the house right now, we'd be screwed," Dean said, unable to even open his eyes, lest food fall out of them. Jody was one of the best damn cooks he'd ever met- second only to his mother. He had crammed himself so full that it just wasn't physically possible for him to get another bite in unless he wanted to sacrifice his lungs and the ability to breath.

"So let's not go there, shall we?" Jody said firmly, but with a smile. "I think we've all earned a day to sit around and stuff ourselves stupid."

"Well, we did do that," Sam said, casually stretching his long arms and trying not to belch.

"Of course, some of us were already stupid to begin with."

"Shut up, you jerk."

"Make me, you bitch."

"I'd threaten both of you with no dessert if we had anything left," Jody broke into the squabble with a chuckle. She stole a glance at Claire, who had pulled out her phone and was roundly ignoring the rest of the clan. Jody took a deep breath and reminded herself that Claire had come to the table when called the first time, had actually eaten, and hadn't picked a fight at all. She tried to think of a fun activity that would engage her adopted ward in the spirit of the holiday. "Who's up for a game of touch football?" she asked brightly. In response, every man around the table let out a loud and obnoxious groan. Hopeful that that would at least elicit a smile from Claire, Jody looked at her. Claire simply rolled her eyes and pushed herself away from the table. She walked out, once again, completely absorbed in her phone. Trying not to the let the disappointment get the best of her, Jody tried a different tactic.

"Well, these dishes aren't going to wash themselves." The groan she got in response to that was even louder than the first one. In the midst of all the noise and gargantuan efforts to keep the delicious meal inside of their bodies, no one noticed the six year old quietly slip out of her chair and go trailing after the sulking blonde teenager.

Natalie caught up to Claire in the hallway. Claire was still too absorbed in her phone to notice, until she felt a small hand pull on the bottom of her long sweater. She whipped around in alarm, her instincts always causing her to react violently, but when she saw it was Natalie, her panicked look was instantly replaced by a scowl.

"Oh. It's just you," she said in a withering tone.

"Do you wanna play now, Claire?" Natalie asked, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet. Claire turned away and kept walking, but that didn't deter the little girl. Natalie simply skipped up next to her and tried to take her hand.

"Oh my god, Natalie, stop it," Claire snapped, lowering the phone to glare at the child again. Natalie looked hurt at the rebuff. Instantly, Claire felt bad, but she shoved it down the same way she did with all her other feeling. "Why don't you go play with your dad or your uncle?" she said in an fleeting attempt to be nice and get rid of the kid all in the same stroke.

Natalie shook her head. "No way," she said. "Dad and Uncle Sam are way too full. They don't like to play right after they've eaten a lot," she continued, appearing to know. "But I never get to see you anymore! I wanna play with you!" she enthused, the sparkle returning to her bright green eyes. Claire rolled her eyes again. She had babysat a handful of times last year when Natalie had been in Bobby's care, and the little girl couldn't seem to get enough of her. It was annoying.

"Okay, you are seriously going to have to get away from me."

"Come on! We can play…um….Disney princesses!"

"Sure. Bippity boppity back the hell up."

"That's not how you play."

"Well, that's how I play. Now go away. Go annoy someone else."

"Pops won't play, and neither will Cas."

"And how do you know that, huh?"

"Because Cas still finds eating weird. He takes a long time after he eats to get going again."

Suddenly Claire stopped in her tracks, causing Natalie to almost bump into her. She appeared to be thinking very hard. After a moment of silence, Claire spoke in a strained voice. "You….you eat with… Cas often?"

Natalie shrugged. "Sometimes. When I ask him to stay for dinner he does." That made the teenager turn around and finally pay attention to the little girl.

"How often does he see you?" she asked in a slightly tighter voice.

"When I ask him to."

Claire froze. Her mind whirled at top speed as it processed the information she had just received. The information that made her angry. Really angry. But before the child could catch on to the sudden change in the atmosphere, Claire's face suddenly transformed. She smiled at the hyper little girl, and leaned down towards her.

"Say, you know what, Natalie?" Claire said in a falsely bright and cheery voice. "I just thought of a game we could play." It had the effect she was hoping for. Natalie's face lit up and she clapped her hands together.

"Yes!" she squealed loudly. Claire instantly put a finger to her lips.

"No- shhh- you need to be quiet. This isn't for the grown ups, okay? It's just for us." Natalie clamped her mouth together and nodded vigorously. Claire smiled again at Natalie's obedience. She crooked her finger and turned, and Natalie eagerly followed her down the hallway. However, she stopped dead in her tracks when she saw where Claire was leading her.

She stood in the doorway to Jody's room as Claire waltzed in and began examining the pictures on the wall. "Um, Claire?" Natalie said in a hushed voice.

Paying no attention to the child's distress, Claire answered without looking at her. "Yes?" she said, gazing at the framed pictures on Jody's wall.

"Um…I don't think I'm supposed to go in here."

Claire turned to her. "Why not?"

"Cause this is Jody's room, and Dad and Uncle Sam told me that I'm not supposed to go into a grown up's room without asking."

Claire shook her head. "That's only for grown ups that aren't family." Natalie's brow wrinkled in confusion, but before she could say anything, Claire continued. "This is my house too, and I say that you can be in here."

"But- but what if Jody gets mad?"

"She won't because we're all family. See how that works?" Without waiting for a response, Claire wandered around the room again, examining Jody's personal items. "You know what the great thing about having so much family is?" she asked Natalie in a light, cajoling voice as she made her way towards Jody's dresser. When Natalie didn't answer right away, Claire turned to see her still hovering nervously in the doorway. "Oh, come on, you big chicken," she said in a taunting voice. "Get in here."

Natalie was torn. She knew that her father and uncle had been pretty clear on the whole going-into-other-people's-rooms thing, but on the other hand, Claire was finally talking to her and wanting to play with her. What if she didn't go into the room, and Claire didn't want to play anymore? And she could NOT let Claire think she was a chicken. She took a tentative step into the room, anxiously watching Claire's reaction. When Claire rewarded her with a smile, Natalie felt a bit braver, and took another step into the room.

Claire nodded her approval, then continued her examination of the room. "So like I was saying, the great thing about having so much family is that you've always got each other's backs. Like- for example- you."

"Me?" Natalie said, her eyes wide with wonder.

"Oh yeah," Claire said casually. "You're like the little sister I never had."

"I am?"

"Um hm. I always wanted a sister. Someone who could help me out- be there for me- and help me when I was in trouble, you know?"

"Kind of like Dad and Uncle Sam!"

"Exactly." Claire let out a dramatic sigh before turning back to the little girl. "It sure would be nice to have a sister. Especially with Jody, sometimes."

"What do you mean?"

"She's always getting on my case about everything. 'Do your homework', 'do your chores', 'stop eating up all the data on your phone', you know, all that crap. And if I do something, even if it was an accident, she gets really nasty about it."

"But- but Claire, Jody's nice."

"She's nice to _you_. You should see what happens when I get in trouble." Upon hearing Claire's lies, all manners of horrible things instantly flooded Natalie's six year old mind. She couldn't quite believe that Jody was as mean as all that. "Once- just once, I wish I had a sister who could help me out when stuff like that happened. You know?" Claire said in the most brilliantly pathetic way she could.

Natalie's big heart got the best of her. "Maybe we could be sisters like that, Claire!" she said in a quiet voice laced with excitement, like she was confiding a great secret. That was exactly what Claire had been waiting to hear. In a very dramatic, overly excited move, she turned towards Natalie.

"Maybe we could! Why, that would just be-" she flung her arms out to the side in supposed ecstasy, where her hand collided with a small porcelain figurine that had been sitting on top of the dresser. It crashed to the floor, smashing into several pieces. Natalie gasped and jumped back.

"Claire! Are you hurt?" she asked, her eyes full of concern. Claire's heart momentarily twisted as the little girl's obvious care for her well-being hit her. But she once again stuffed it down. She knew she had only a matter of moments to set the rest of her plan in place. She had to act quickly.

"Oh my gosh, Jody's going to KILL me," she whispered in a heavy, scared voice. Natalie shook her little head.

"No, no she won't- it was an accident!" she said desperately.

"Weren't you listening before?" Claire said, turning her wide eyes to Natalie. "She doesn't care if I make mistakes- I just get in so much trouble…" she broke off. She waited to see if the kid would take the bait, which of course she did.

"Well- maybe…maybe I can help you since we're kind of sisters?" Natalie asked desperately, as if all of humanity hung in the balance. Claire whipped back around towards her, just as she heard the telltale thump of adult feet pounding their way. She leaned down and put her hands on Natalie's shoulders.

"Natalie- that would just be the best. But remember- sisters help each other, no matter what. They help each other out of trouble. Right?"

Natalie nodded back, her eyes wide but determined. "Right," she answered back. Just then, Dean, Jody and Sam all came running into the room.

"What happened? What broke?" Dean said forcefully, apparently recovered from his recent food coma. His eyes immediately scanned his daughter for any signs of distress. Other than her wringing her tiny hands, she seemed fine. He quickly performed the same scan on Claire. Before he could really ascertain that there was no blood or anything of the like, Jody gasped.

"My figurine!" she said, making her way to the pile of crushed ceramic on the floor. She knelt down and gently picked up one of the pieces. Her anguished eyes found Sam's. "My husband gave this to me- for Mother's Day," she said in a tight voice. Both Sam and Dean knew instantly the connection that the piece had meant to her.

"Jody, I'm so sorry. We can try to fix it," Sam said gently, making his way over to the broken figurine and picking up a few pieces. Jody just nodded, but then turned to the girls.

"How did this happen?" she asked in quiet, even tones. Neither girl answered, but she saw Claire's eyes meet Natalie's. Dean's eyes caught the whole thing. They narrowed a bit as he spoke.

"Alright you two. Time to start talking. What happened? Who did this?" he asked in his no-nonsense voice. His eyes rested on the teenager who wasn't moving. He felt his blood pressure rising and was about to let loose on Claire, when suddenly, Natalie stepped forward.

"I did it," she said in a tiny, frightened voice.

 _To Be Continued….._


	64. Turkey Day Part Two

**Happy Thanksgiving! I love you bitches, jerks, assbutts, and idjits.**

 **A/N- this is part two of a two part story. Please see previous chapter for part one. Please read profile page for disclaimer.**

The stunned silence that followed Natalie' confession stretched on. All three adults immediately focused on her.

"Wait- what?" Dean said, completely thrown at Natalie's words.

"I did it, Dad. I broke Jody's…thing," Natalie said, pointing at the pieces in Jody's hands. Dean was just about to speak- he wasn't sure what he would have said- when Sam quietly cleared his throat behind him. Dean didn't even need to be looking at his brother to know what that meant. He did, however, turn to Jody quickly, locking eyes with her, but spoke to his daughter.

"So, Natalie, you're telling me that you're the one who broke the figurine, huh?" he asked. Natalie wasn't sure why he was looking at Jody and not at her. Every time she was in trouble before, Dean made damn sure she was looking him right in the eye while he scolded her. Whatever his reasons, she knew she still better answer anyways.

"Yes, sir. I did it," she said with certainty. Dean couldn't help but note the little quiver in her voice when she spoke. Finally, after seeing what he needed to see on Jody's face, he whipped around quickly. He glared sternly at the little girl as he moved towards her.

"Alright then, young lady. You're coming with me," he growled, hauling her up into his arms. Natalie gave a little squeak as she was suddenly rocketed upwards into Dean's arms, but didn't protest. Before either of them could say another word, Dean marched out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The sudden silence was, once again, unnerving.

Claire schooled every muscle in her face not to smile, but she couldn't help but feel smug for a split second. Finally she had gotten the little brat off her case, and if she knew Dean like she thought she did, he'd make sure that Natalie would leave her alone for the rest of the day. Sure, Dean had been a little rougher than she'd expected while hauling the kid out of the room, but who cared? Little brat was finally getting what she deserved. Again, the nagging fact that Natalie's didn't _really_ deserve what was coming stabbed her heart, but she savagely pushed that aside.

Sam, however, had been watching Claire's face carefully. He noticed the brief flicker of triumph that had passed over her face when Natalie admitted to breaking the figurine. He had also noticed the shock at Dean's sudden departure with his errant daughter in tow. "Wow," he commented suddenly and offhandedly. "I thought we had stomped all this out of her."

Without missing a beat, Jody picked it up. "Well, what can you do. She's stubborn as an ox- I guess she just needs to learn her lesson. Maybe this time it'll stick," she answered Sam, as if Claire wasn't even in the room.

Sam rubbed the back of his neck, worn out from all the drama. "Yeah. Hopefully we won't hear her crying from here though- that's rough when that happens."

"Wait," Claire said suddenly. Her stupid bleeding heart had gotten the best of her and made her say that. Well, she had to ask. "What do you mean, 'crying'? Why would she cry?"

Both Jody and Sam turned around to look at the teen. Sam had a frustrated and exasperated look on his face. "Well, Dean always comes down really hard on Natalie when she misbehaves," Sam said nonchalantly. "She knows better than to touch things that aren't hers, so she's got to be taught a lesson that'll stick."

Claire's eyes got wide. There was no way. Natalie wasn't that bad. They had to be joking. "But…but she's just a kid. Dean wouldn't…."

"Oh yes, he would," Jody interrupted. "She's pulled this kind of thing before. I guess she just won't learn." She turned back to Sam, her face full of sorrow. "Natalie was doing so well- I really thought Dean got through to her the last time this happened," she said, looking at Sam, baffled. Sam shrugged and raised his hands, turning away as he spoke.

"Who knows. Maybe she thought she could start misbehaving again- testing the waters now that she's back on the road with us." Sam snorted and shook his head. "Well, all I can say is that she's really going to regret what she just did. Dean's going to tear her apart, I know it."

Claire felt torn. She had just wanted to get Natalie in a little trouble- that was all. Keep her away from…everyone…and just get the kid off her freaking back. But it seems like she had stepped in something much bigger and more rotten than she'd bargained for. "Come on, Sam," she said, half pleading. "She's only six. Don't you think that's extreme for such a little kid?"

Sam shook his head. "Claire, if you knew what we've had to do to keep her in line, you'd be surprised that it didn't come to this way sooner." Sam looked back at Jody. "You know, if she starts this again, I can bet you anything that Dean will leave her with Bobby. And this time, for good."

And that did it. Despite the anger she felt towards Natalie, she knew how completely devoted Natalie was to her father. She also knew from the limited amount of time that she had actually spent with the kid, both when Natalie had been younger and then babysitting her last year, that Natalie wasn't…. _Natalie_ without Dean. And vice versa. As much as she didn't want to do it, she had to tell the truth. For Dean's sake, at least. She had to come clean.

"Wait! Wait," she said in a rush. Both Sam and Jody turned to look at her. With a dramatic eye roll intended to avoid eye contact, she mumbled out the rest of her confession. "I did it."

"I'm sorry, Claire, what was that?" Jody said, looking at the teen. Claire exhaled noisily, then looked at her.

"I said I did it, okay? I'm the one that broke the stupid figurine thing."

Before she could get out another word, the bedroom door opened back up. "Just what I thought," Dean said, re-entering the room with Natalie still in his arms. Claire's mouth dropped open in surprise at the sight of him. In two seconds, she realized she'd been played.

Natalie, however, was looking wide-eyed at Claire, then at her father, trying to figure out what was happening. Dean had stormed into the hallways with her, but after he had slammed the door, he had turned and winked at her, then pressed his finger against her lips, telling her silently to be quiet. She had obeyed without hesitation while Dean had listened at the bedroom door, but she still wasn't quite sure what was happening. She tried in vain to salvage the situation.

"No, Claire, you don't have to say that! I dropped the…" Before Natalie could finish her sentence, Dean puts his finger on her lips again, indicating silence.

"You are already in a heap of trouble for lying once today, little girl," he said in a casual voice. "You really wanna make it worse on yourself?" Natalie appeared to wither in Dean's arms, but closed her mouth and shook her head. Claire's disbelieving gaze darted between the three adults.

"So how did you know?" she ground out. Dean was only too happy to tell her.

"We have our ways. It don't take a genius to know when you're lying through your teeth. See, here's something you don't know about Sammy, Claire," he said in that even, no-nonsense tone that managed to send a chill up her spine. "He can tell whenever the kid's lying." He nodded towards his brother, who confirmed it.

"Don't know how, but whenever she lies, I can feel it," Sam said, a touch of sternness in his own voice that Claire wasn't used to.

"Not to mention the top of the dresser's too high for Natalie to reach," Dean continued. Claire looked over and silently cursed under her breath. How could she have missed that? She shook her head.

"So you knew from the moment she said she did it," Claire said, a tone of accusation in her voice. "You knew all that time. Was that little show supposed to get me to confess?"

"Worked, didn't it?" Jody said lightly, her steely gaze cutting into her young ward. That gaze had always had an instant effect on Claire, who folded her arms and scoffed, but didn't say anything. "I have to say, though, Sam," she said, turning to the younger Winchester brother. "That was some damn fine acting on our parts."

"Agreed. We should write the Oscar committee."

"Calm down there, Julia Roberts. Alright, you two," Dean said in a commanding voice, turning his attention back to the two girls. "Living room couch, now." He turned on his heel, Natalie still in his arms, and made his way towards the living room. Claire however, didn't budge.

"You heard him. Move," Jody said to her ward, all joking gone, her own tone commanding enough to match Dean's. With an obvious eye roll, Claire followed suit. She walked into the living room just in time to see Dean depositing Natalie carefully on the couch. The little girl sat there quietly, her tiny hands twisting in her lap. Claire felt a fleeting stab of regret that quickly dissipated when Dean caught her eye and pointed to the seat next to Natalie. She stomped her way over, arms still folded, and dropped down onto the couch, crossing her legs for good measure.

Dean took note of Claire's attitude and posture, and sent up a silent prayer that when Natalie hit her teenage years, she wouldn't be like this. "So you two wanna tell me what game you were playing in there? Why you were both so willing to let Natalie lie and take the fall?"

Claire looked out the window, determined not to answer. But Natalie knew better than to provoke an angry Dean Winchester. "I didn't want Claire to get in trouble, Dad," Natalie piped up in a small voice.

"Was it an accident? The figurine getting knocked over?" Jody asked calmly. Natalie's eyes darted over to Sam, who was standing next to his brother.

"Yeah, it was," she said. Sam's eyebrows raised. She wasn't lying. Or she didn't think she was lying, he figured.

"So how did it happen, Bug?" Sam asked the little girl, since it was obvious that they weren't going to voluntarily get anything out of the teen.

"Well," Natalie said with a furtive glance at Claire. "We were talking about family and…"

"Nope. Hang on. Start from the beginning. Why were you in Jody's room?" Dean interrupted her. She squirmed, but answered.

"Um- 'cause Claire said that I was allowed to go into there with her."

Jody's eyebrows shot up into her hairline. "Oh really," she commented. "And since when is that allowed, Claire?" she asked pointedly. Claire still kept her arms folded and her lips sealed. Dean inhaled and exhaled deliberately before continuing.

"So you and Claire were in Jody's room without permission. Then what happened?"

Natalie wanted to argue that she THOUGHT she had permission from Claire, but that would probably just get Claire in more trouble, and sisters didn't do that. So she continued on with the story. "Then we were talking about being sisters and helping each other out, because that's what sisters do."

Jody's eyes swung back to the teen. She knew that Claire had a barely concealed animosity when it came to the kid, so this was surprising. "Well. That's interesting. Then what happened?"

"Um, then- then the…then Claire accidently knocked over the…doll thing."

"It's called a figurine, Bug."

"The figurine. And then, 'cause we're like sisters, I wanted to help her out and not let her get in trouble, so I said that I did it so she wouldn't get in trouble."

Claire finally broke her silence with a loud snort. "Geez, just give it all away, why don't you, kid," she said, her voice cutting and sarcastic. Natalie's wide and scared gaze darted back and forth between Claire and Dean.

"I'm sorry, Claire, I didn't mean to…" Natalie stammered, her eyes widening as she looked at Dean, wondering what had gone so wrong so quickly. Dean intervened.

"It seems to me that you should be damned grateful that the kid told us the truth," he growled at Claire, whose arms tightened at the sound of his angry voice. "You would have kept lying, and I'm sure things would have gotten a lot worse from there. And speaking of lying," he said, turning his gaze back to his daughter. He walked up close to her and knelt down in front of her on the couch. He put his finger under Natalie's chin- their signal that she better make eye contact with him, which she did. "I'm gonna go easy on you this time, squirt, since you got hoodwinked so bad."

Natalie's curiosity got the best of her. "What's hoodwinked?" she asked inquisitively.

"Means you got played by someone who's exceptionally good at lying. You didn't see it coming and you fell for it. Easy to do, considering Claire's a damn good liar," he said, with another steely glance at Claire, before turning his attention back to the child. "But you know lying-at all, don't care why- don't fly with me. Right?" he said in a quiet, firm tone.

"Yes, sir," Natalie mumbled miserably.

"You don't lie to me, to Uncle Sam, to Jody, or to anyone in this house. Understood?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." Dean stood up, and nodded quickly at Sam, who silently knew what that meant. Sam stepped forward and held out his hand towards his niece.

"Come on, Bug. Time out," he said gently. Natalie's little shoulders slumped, but she knew she had it coming.

"Yes, sir," she answered Sam, taking his hand and sliding off the couch. As they exited the room, Dean called over his shoulder.

"Only five minutes, Sammy."

"Got it," Sam answered back. Satisfied that that was taken care of, Dean's attention swung back to Claire, who, he was surprised to see, was glaring at him despite the huge amount of boiling water she must have known she was in.

"Wow," she said sarcastically. "You've really got her trained good. Is she just like a puppy to you? Bet she even knows how to sit up and beg. Did you use a shock collar or what?" Her well-beyond-rude comment stunned both Jody and Dean into absolutely silence for a moment. But before Dean could explode, another voice interrupted.

"That's enough, Claire," a gravelly voice came from behind. Dean and Jody both spun around to see Castiel standing there.

"Oh look. Fly Boy decided to join the party," Claire said. Castiel's brow wrinkled.

"I am an angel. Not a fly."

As all three of them rolled their eyes, Dean turned back to Claire. "What's your deal, huh?" he said, the barely controlled rage still evident in his voice. "You get a kick out of setting up little kids and watching them take the fall for you? This some kind of twisted Big Brother Big Sister program I don't know about?"

Claire glared at him and tightened her crossed arms and legs. "You're not my father. I don't have to tell you anything."

At that, Castiel stepped forward. "Well, I am your father. So you will tell me."

Claire's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You're not my father either."

"I'm the closest thing you've got left," Cas said simply. His words, even though they had no maliciousness behind them, made Claire feel like she'd been slapped. She couldn't think of anything to say in retort. She had to concentrate on keeping the tears in her eyes.

Upon seeing this, Castiel turned to Jody and Dean. "Let me talk to her," he said in his low tones.

"Cas, I'm not sure that's such a good idea," Jody said. Cas looked at her, his large blue eyes full of sudden pain.

"I am the reason she feels like this. I should be the one to talk to her," he said.

"Cas, man, c'mon, you don't know that," Dean said, but before he could say anymore, Jody put a hand on his arm gently, stopping him.

"We'll leave you to it," she said kindly to the angel, before tugging gently on the oldest Winchester's arm to get him to leave. Dean's gaze darted quickly between Claire and Cas as he was pulled out of the room, but he didn't put up a fuss. He knew Natalie had already learned her lesson, and he wanted to go rescue and comfort his little girl anyway.

Castiel quietly moved to the couch, sitting on the spot that Natalie had just vacated. "So," he said, not entirely sure where to start, yet still feeling responsible. "I do not know where to start this conversation," he said baldly.

Claire snorted another mirthless laugh. "So let's not have this conversation, then."

"No, I don't think that's the best option either. Claire, I feel that I owe you an apology."

"Great. You want the list of stuff you should be sorry for, or can you just wing it from memory?"

Pause. "You've complied a list?"

"This is pointless," Claire thundered, standing up. Before she could move a step, however, Cas snapped his fingers and she suddenly found herself seated on the couch again. "Let me up," she snarled.

Cas shook his head. "No. Not until I've said what I need to say."

"Which is what?"

"Which is- I'm sorry."

"Fine. Let me up."

"You don't seem to understand my meaning."

That was the final straw for her. For her plan to fail, for Natalie once again to be the coddled, perfect child, and now to have the freaking angel controlling her every move, she was done. "Oh, believe me," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I understand you perfectly. You're sorry because your precious little Natalie got in trouble. And you're sorry that you took my father over and destroyed him. And you're sorry that my life didn't turn out the way it was supposed to. Well, boo freaking hoo, angel boy. Life sucks. I'd think you'd have been on this god-forsaken planet long enough by now to realize that."

Castiel turned his full attention to Claire. "You are correct."

That caught her short. "What?"

"I mean, you are correct. For whatever reason, God has seen fit to forsake this planet. For the time being, anyways." His blue eyes bore into her furious brown ones. "And I have made your time on a difficult planet even more difficult. I truly am sorry. But I do want you to know that your father's sacrifice has helped save many, many lives."

"Well, that's just great. So glad it's worked out for everyone else."

"It's wrong that it had to destroy yours."

Hearing it put so bluntly, so truthfully- the way she had always thought of it, but never dared to say out loud- was almost more than she could take. Without meaning to, the small geode that Cas had managed to crack in her by saying those words spilt over. On their own volition, her thoughts came spilling out. "It's just…" she stammered. "Every time I look at you, every time I see you- it's like getting stabbed in the heart again." Cas nodded, encouraging her to continue speaking. "I just…it really sucks that my dad's gone, but there's this constant reminder of him."

"I know. And I apologize for the distress it causes you. I was hoping that spending some time together today in a family setting would help to heal this rift."

"And that's the other thing," Claire said, the dam continuing to burst and let all her words out. It was like they had been pushing against her for the longest time, and the slightest crack was all it took. "It's not enough that I have to see this…this version of my father walking around, looking exactly like him, but being nothing like him all at the same time, and then to find out that there's another girl who snaps her damn tiny fingers and you fly right by her side…"

"Claire-" Cas stammered. "Are you… are you jealous of Natalie?"

"Gee. What gave it away."

"Your words from before."

"Yes, Castiel, I'm jealous. Of a freaking six year old." Claire ran her hands up and down her thighs, furious at the words that were coming out of her mouth, yet feeling a desperate need to get them all out. "That kid's got it made. Two of the best freaking hunters in the business taking her all over the good ol' U.S. of A., teaching her how to hunt and kill things instead of leaving her to fend for herself, and an angel who comes running at her beck and call, AND Bobby, AND Jody…"

"But Claire, do you not realize that you have that as well?" Castiel asked honestly. She looked at him, disbelieving.

"I don't have that. I never have."

"You know that Jody will do anything for you, as will Bobby. And the moment that you call Sam or Dean, they will rush to your side to help you. Do you truly not understand that?"

"And what about you?"

"Me?"

"Do you have any idea how many times I've asked you to come to me?" Claire whispered spitefully, revealing the long-held secret. "You know how many times I've prayed for you to just come help me?"

Castiel looked at the floor. He took his time in answering. "Yes. Yes, I do," he finally said.

"So you CAN hear me."

"Yes."

"Why didn't you ever come?"

"Because it was not me you were seeking."

"What the hell does that mean? I said Cas- I meant Cas."

"You said Cas. You meant your father."

Another moment of stunned silence filled the room. Carefully measuring his words, Cas spoke again. "Claire- I didn't respond to you because you were desperately seeking your father. I felt that my presence would have only made things worse." Cas hung his head. "I was trying to make the right choice- I was trying to spare you the pain. But it seems I came to the wrong conclusion." He stared at the carpet again, wondering if he would ever get the chance to right all the many, many wrongs he had committed over the years. But before he could say anything, Claire spoke softly.

"You- you were trying to help me? By- not helping me?" she asked in a gentler voice than Cas had ever heard her use. He looked at her.

"I was," he answered. "I am sorry that you thought otherwise."

Claire shook her head, but there was a small, amazed smile playing at the corner of her mouth. "You were trying to help me. All this time."

"Yes. Because even though I am no longer your true father, I still care for you. Very much." Neither one of them spoke for the longest time, lost in their own thoughts.

Finally after an eternity of a comfortable silence, Claire spoke. "Well, now I really feel like an ass," she commented dryly. She still didn't look at Castiel, but she chose her next words carefully.

"Can- uh- can you fix Jody's figurine?" she asked, guiltily. She knew how much that stupid thing meant to Jody.

Castiel flicked his index finger lazily. "Done."

Claire gave a low chuckle. "Man. Dad would have loved to have been able to do that when he was still here." That brought a smile to even Castiel's stoic face.

"Well, do you feel that you are able to rejoin the rest of the family now?" Cas said, with another look at her. The word "family" hit Claire's ear in a new way. She actually smiled in response.

"Yeah, I guess so," she said. "I think I've got some major ass kissing to do."

"Well, I think getting Cas to fix my figurine was a good start," said Jody, coming out from around the corner. Claire started at the sight of her. How were these people so good at doing that?

"Were you there the whole time?" Claire asked nervously. She wasn't sure how she felt about what Cas had said, let alone having someone else know about it. But to her relief, Jody shook her head.

"No. I was cleaning up the pieces in my room, when suddenly, I didn't have to anymore." She grinned at the angel. "Thanks for that."

"You are welcome," Castiel responded simply. Jody's attention shifted back to the teenager. She held her arms open. With an eye roll and a smile, Claire got off the couch and stepped into them, hugging Jody back.

"I'm sorry I was a bitch," she mumbled into Jody's shoulder. Jody gently laughed in response.

"Well, kid, chalk it up to being a teenager. I'm sure there'll be more of it where that came from. But you know you can always talk to me about it. You can talk to me about anything you want. You know that I'm on your side, right?" Jody said, pulling Claire back gently and looking into her eyes. Claire gave a sideways smile and nodded.

"Yeah. Yeah, I know." Not wanting the feels moment to go on longer, she turned her attention to Cas, who got up off the couch and crossed over to the ladies. Jody smiled at the angel gratefully.

"Do you guys feel like a snack? I've still got one pie hidden-" Jody began quietly, but was cut off by a delighted shriek from the dining room.

"DAD! I found it!"

"HA! Yes! I guess I'm not putting you out in the yard tonight, squirt. Sammy, grab the forks!"

Jody rolled her eyes with a smile. "Too late."


	65. The Journal

**Hello, you wonderful person you. Whatever is going on today, you need to know that you're wonderful.**

 **I started writing this story well over a year ago. But it wasn't until last week when my grandfather died, that I knew how to finish it. So this one is for my "Pops".**

 **Thanks to Jenmm31- for not only beta-ing but being Sammy for me when I needed it. Go check out her stories. She's got something amazing cooking, and trust me- it's worth the wait.**

 **Be kind to each other. Help each other. Love each other.**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is nineteen. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

The Impala pulled up along the dusty, tired house. From the backseat, Natalie couldn't stop staring at it. It was so familiar, yet, at this moment, so completely alien. Her home- and not her home. Not anymore.

They had gotten the call two days ago. Bobby had had a heart attack. Not surprising, given his advanced age, but still somehow shocking. They were contacted by the hospital, where Bobby had listed Dean as his next of kin. Despite the hour of the phone call, despite the case they were working on, they had thrown everything they had with them into the car and drove non-stop till they got to South Dakota. Family came first- end of discussion. When they finally reached the hospital, the news was heart breaking. Bobby had been hanging on by a thread, the nurse told them, but wasn't letting go yet.

"I think he's waiting for you," she had said quietly.

The three Winchesters had gone into his hospital room. Natalie's heart plummeted through her feet. Her Pops was hooked to all sorts of machines and tubes- none of which seemed to be making him better. In her desperation, she wanted to destroy them all in her anger. None of them could make her Pops better. But she could barely move. However, Bobby's sluggish eyes turned to her. They seemed to light up, even just briefly.

"Hey, Little Bit. I'm glad you're here," he wheezed out. Natalie found herself propelled forward by her own feet. Later on, she couldn't remember actually giving her feet the command to walk forward, but there she was, right beside him, reaching for his hand. Bobby saw the shock, fear, and sadness on her face.

"I've looked worse," he said gruffly, and then smiled. Natalie couldn't help but give a watery giggle. The tears started pouring, unchecked, down her face. For once, she didn't bat them away. And for once, no one called her on it. Bobby gave her fingers a weak little squeeze.

"You listen to me, okay? You need to take care of the two of them." He gave a barely noticeable nod to Sam and Dean. "They're idjits."

Even though the tears weren't stopping, Natalie couldn't help but smile. "I will, Pops. Promise."

"And don't run in the house."

"Can't promise you that," she managed to get out, knowing that she would do whatever he wanted right now.

Bobby wheezed what may have been a laugh. "Listen up. You're the best thing that ever happened to the two of them. You remember that. And remember something else."

"What?"

"I love you."

Natalie's face crumpled. She pulled Bobby's chilly hand to her cheek. "Pops. I love you too. Please don't go."

"Not up to me anymore, Little Bit. Now go on. I need to talk to your daddy and your uncle."

Natalie gently laid his hand down, and leaned in, giving his tough, leathery cheek a lingering kiss. She stood up, turned, and walked right out the door without looking back. She couldn't. She knew if she did, she would never be able to obey his last request of her.

When she was in the hallway, Bobby looked at Sam and Dean, who both stepped in closer. Without words, they all knew that this was it. Bobby took as deep of a breath as he was capable of. "Stuff in the house is yours- you know that. Keep what you need- burn what you don't. Now that I've got that crap out of the way, listen up." Sam and Dean exchanged a quick look, and leaned in to hear what the old man had to say.

"Natalie is the best thing that ever happened to the two of you. Don't you forget it. And you need to know- you two were the best thing that ever happened to me."

"Bobby-" Sam said, but then words failed him. He simply didn't have what he needed to say.

Dean cleared his throat, and tried to speak, but he couldn't even utter a sound.

Bobby grinned at the both of them.

"Idjits," he whispered.

Then the room fell silent.

*SPN SPN SPN*

That had been yesterday. This morning, they had given Bobby a Hunter's Burial. Natalie had watched the flames stoically, just like Dean always did and was doing now. Sam was worried about his niece. This was the first time she was really experiencing the death of a loved one. Which was incredible, given that she was a nineteen-year-old hunter. Sam sent up a silent prayer of thanks that both he and Dean were there to get her through this.

After parking at the house, Natalie drug her feet walking up the porch behind Dean. She had her duffle slung over her shoulder, but it looked like it weighed a thousand pounds. Dean reached out to take it from her, but she gently moved away, muttering "I'm okay." She walked past Dean and withdrew her keys from her pocket, fitting the correct one into the lock. She twisted the doorknob and walked right into the house.

Dean's heart was breaking. Not only had they lost Bobby, which in and of itself was terrible. But watching his child in so much pain, when there was nothing he could do about it, was heart shattering. He felt like all of the oxygen in the universe had been sucked out of his lungs, leaving him with nothing but emptiness. He stopped in the doorway, and turned to Sam to see the same pain in an identical mask on his brother's face.

"Sammy- what are we supposed to do?" Dean asked in a low, anguished voice. "Bobby's just...gone. What are we gonna do now?"

Sam just shook his head. "We take it one day at a time. We got to be there for his final moments- a lot of people don't even get that."

"Especially when it comes to hunters," Dean agreed. Sam nodded.

"Exactly. So we get through. We can get through anything."

Dean looked Sam right in the eye. "Even this?"

Sam looked evenly back. "Yup."

Dean nodded his head, once. He and Sam- they had always been a team. He couldn't and wouldn't do this without his little brother, and he didn't want to. With Sam by his side, he knew he had the strength to help his daughter through this as well.

Natalie had walked into the living room, dumping her duffle in the middle of the floor, and plopping down on the couch, just like it was any other day. Dean knew immediately it was all an act, but if this was what she needed right now, he wasn't going to stop her.

"So I figure we can go through all the books and files in like- what- two days?" She turned her head to look at her father, nothing but stoic determination in her features. "Do you think that's enough time?"

Before Dean could reply, Sam broke in gently. "Bug- we don't have to start that right away."

She shrugged, seemingly indifferent. "Why not? He would want us to have all of his research, right? We can load it up and take it back to the bunker. I cleaned out a lot of crap last summer- it shouldn't be that bad," she finished, as if she was talking about just going through some old dresser drawers.

"If that's what you want, then we'll do it," Dean said, firmly but kindly. That supportive tone almost broke her resolve to remain stoic, but she gritted her teeth, looked Dean full in the face, and nodded.

"Cool. What should we do about the panic room?"

"I'll clear that out," Dean broke in again, suddenly. He knew Sam loathed that place, and ever since Natalie had had a run-in with Crowley when she was six, she wasn't terribly fond of it either. He looked at Sam, whose face registered gratefulness at not being stuck back in there.

"I can go through the weapons and stuff that he had in the storage shed," Sam offered. Upon hearing that, Natalie's head perked up.

"Wait a minute. He kept weapons in the storage shed?" she asked. When both Dean and Sam nodded their heads "yes", she snorted a laugh. "So that's why he never let me in there."

Sam chuckled. "Well, when you were a kid, you were into everything. Can you imagine the terror you would have wreaked on this place if you'd gotten your hands on some of that stuff?"

"Yeah, but when I started training full time, he still never let me in the shed."

Dean shrugged. "Old habits die hard."

Natalie just rolled her eyes, but chuckled. "Whatever. I'm going to go put my stuff up in my room." She stood up, grabbed her duffle bag, and headed for the stairs. But when she got to the first step, she froze in her tracks. She looked down at her feet, as if she was seeing them for the first time. Dean was instantly on the alert, and by her side in a second.

"Natalie? What's wrong?" he asked. She didn't look up, but mumbled her reply.

"Pops hated it when I ran in the house. Especially on the stairs." She couldn't tear her eyes away from her feet. It was like she was hearing his voice inside her head all over again. Dean reached out and rubbed her back soothingly.

"Well, it's a good thing you're not running now. I'd have to yell at you," he said, in an attempt at humor. But she still didn't move. A good thirty seconds past before she spoke again in a whisper.

"I can't run in the house anymore. He told me not to." The next thing she heard were wild, racking sobs. It took her a while to realize that they were coming from her. Her knees buckled, but Dean caught her in an instant. He sat down, right there on the steps with her, and pulled her into his lap, just like she was a little girl all over again. She held on to the front of his shirt tightly as she cried. She didn't even realize when Sam came over and sat on the steps next to them, rubbing her back. Dean kept his hand on her head, pressed into his chest, as he rocked her back and forth.

*SPN SPN SPN*

After her emotional outburst, she shut down. She stopped trying to be brave, she stopped trying to make jokes. She didn't attempt to recover any part of her personality for the sake of Sam or Dean- she just didn't want to. She wanted to keep her head down, keep grinding, and never cry again. She just wanted it to be over and to get back to some semblance of a life that made sense.

For the next two days, Natalie worked with a vengeance, cleaning out drawers, rifling through closets, shaking out old books. She stoically made a huge pile of lore next to the front door that was going back to the bunker with them, keeping a couple books for herself to read on the drive back. Often she would come across things with Bobby's writing. Whenever that happened, she would quietly lay whatever it was down on the nearest surface and walk out to the junkyard with a straight back and head held high. Both boys could hear, however, the sounds of gunshots and shattering glass inside the house. Once she had "worked through her feelings", she would come back in, head still high, as if she hadn't just shot out the windshields of half a dozen junker cars, and would quietly resume her work.

Later on, when they were sure she couldn't hear or had her ear buds in, blasting Metallica, Sam and Dean would go back and forth, trying to figure out how to help her deal with the grief. The circular conversation was getting tiresome- and more nerve wracking every time they had it.

On their fifth attempt, Dean finally just shook his head, giving a mirthless laugh. "You know, if Bobby were here, he'd smack the back of her head and tell her to give up the emo crap."

Sam's bitch face was instantly activated. "Dean-"

Waving away Sam's concerns, Dean rolled his eyes. "I ain't gonna do that and you know it. Just- ironic, when you think about it."

"Well, I still think that trying to let her deal with this, however she wants to, is ultimately what's going to be best. But that takes time- and putting her on lock down."

"She will be furious if I keep her from hunting."

"You know that she'll get reckless, just out of sheer pain. It's what YOU do."

"Don't mean that's what she'll do."

Sam answered gently. "Yes, it does."

Not wanting to acknowledge that Sam was right, Dean rolled his jaw and looked away. "I'm not taking hunting away from her until she 'deals with this', Sam. It'll kill her. She'll see it as a punishment and she'll shut down completely."

"So we talk to her- let her know what's really going on, and why we're doing this."

"It ain't happening, so you can just drop it right now." Dean's tone had a touch of finality in it. Enough to make Sam know that he meant business, but not at all up to his usual standards. He just didn't have enough fire in himself right now. "Look. Every time we lose someone, I'm always the first one charging back into the fray, right?" Sam nodded, unsure as to where Dean was going to go with this. "Doing something I know- and I rock at- is the only way that I can get my brain back on track to start dealing with this crap." He looked his little brother right in the eye. "And since you're right- that she and I are so much alike- you know that it's the way to help her. Only way that she'll let us."

As much as he didn't want to admit it, Dean had made a really good point. Sam sighed and hung his head.

"And you know how much it kills me to see that in her? In the both of you?" he said quietly.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Sam looked back up at him, his eyes aching. "When Dad died and you shut down on me, I had no idea what was going on in your head. All I knew is that you were acting like none of it mattered- that you didn't care. And I know it was eating you alive, man. You were throwing yourself into any case that you could, ignoring what you were feeling. It scared me, Dean. I was afraid I was going to lose you too."

Dean swallowed the lump in his throat, but it refused to budge. After another couple attempts, he finally spoke around it. "Sammy. You're not gonna lose her. We're not gonna lose her. Just like you didn't lose me. I know that when I shut down, you hate it- don't think I don't know that. You gotta remember that not only was I dealing with Dad kicking the bucket, the man's almost-final words to me were that I might have to kill you. I was dealing with a boatload of shit that I couldn't even understand, much less accept. This time, we're just dealing with the pain."

"'Just'?"

"You know what I mean. She's only shutting down because she doesn't want to feel this- she's not wrestling with potentially losing the both of us too."

After a significant pause, Sam said, "You don't know that."

That statement unexpectedly caused Dean to see red- and his brain to go off the deep end. "And what the hell do you mean by that?" he fumed. "You make some kind of deal to bring Bobby back or some stupid shit like that? Because I will kick your lily white ass if you-"

Sam bitch-faced his brother again. "Calm down there, Hulk. You misunderstood me. I didn't make any deals- you know I wouldn't do that." Dean just nodded once, too embarrassed about his sudden mother-henish outburst to say anything. "All I'm saying is that Natalie is probably dealing with the fact that you and I aren't going to be around forever in a very real way now. And like it or not, that takes a toll on anyone."

Dean hadn't really considered that. Yes, they put their lives in danger nearly every day, but for nineteen years, he had always come home. The idea that maybe- one time- he wouldn't come home, would be shattering to her.

He nodded slowly. "Guess I thought she'd have understood that idea by now."

"She does- but seeing it in practice is way different from just understanding it."

Unbeknownst to either of them in that moment, Natalie was eavesdropping on their conversation from the top of the stairs. She had been sitting there for quite a while, silent as a stone, while they talked about her. She knew Dean would be furious if he'd known she was eavesdropping again- he kicked her ass halfway to hell when she was twelve for doing that very thing- but right now she didn't really care.

She knew they were worried about her. She knew she was driving both her father and her uncle off the deep end with concern. Somewhere deep inside her, she cared, but it was too buried under layers of pain and darkness, and she couldn't bring it to the surface. She felt incredibly guilty that she was so seemingly lackadaisical about their distress- that particular emotion seemed to have no trouble shooting to the surface, adding another level on top of her own pain. Her body and soul felt heavy- as if she had lead in her very skin. It was difficult enough just moving, let alone trying to pry out feelings that would only make the lead grow deeper and heavier.

She quietly, but very deliberately, put her hands on top of her thighs and pushed herself up silently. She had more work to do on Bobby's room, and she just couldn't make herself listen to the conversation downstairs any longer. Yes, she was facing the mortality of everyone she loved, but they weren't giving her enough credit. She had known for a long time- a lot longer than they ever suspected- that there was going to be a time when no one came home. She had countered that by training as hard as she could to keep that moment as far away as possible, and vowing to keep her family safe, no matter what.

But what was bothering her the most wasn't so easy to fight.

*SPN SPN SPN*

About half an hour and two beers later, Dean finally shook his head. "Sammy, there's just no easy solution on this one. We're just gonna have to play the cards as they're dealt. And for the final time, I'm not taking the kid out of hunting. You gotta trust me on this one."

As much as he still didn't like it, Sam nodded, resigned. "Maybe you're right."

"Course I am. I always am." Sam snorted a laugh in response, causing Dean to grin, too. "Come on," he said to his little brother. "Let's go make sure she hasn't buried herself in a pile of books." He trotted up the stairs, Sam on his heels. After a moment, he chuckled and looked back over his shoulder. "Hey. You remember the time she knocked over that bookcase in Bobby's study and actually buried herself in a pile of books?" He snickered.

Sam smiled as the memory came back. "You sure weren't laughing about it then."

"That's because I thought she'd broken her neck. God, she used to destroy this place without ever meaning to," Dean said as he reached the top of the stairs.

"And some things never change," Sam said, eyeballing the garbage bags and books scattered along the hallway. He and Dean carefully picked their way across the corridor. Through the open door, they could see Natalie sitting on the floor, her back to them. She didn't appear to be moving.

Dean started shoving rubbish out of his way. "Nat- you okay?" he called out loudly, in case her ear buds were still in. She turned her head towards him slowly.

"Dad," she said in a quiet voice. The tone in her voice made him panic, for some reason. She was never that quiet. Dean kicked a pile of old flannel to the side to get to her. She was sitting Indian style on the floor, and there was a book in her lap. Upon further inspection, it appeared to be one of Bobby's old journals. "I…found this," she said, her voice slightly strained.

Dean's eyes quickly slid to Sam's. Knowing Bobby, there could be anything in that book. Terrified that she found something that had really upset her, he spoke gentle and low. "What is it?"

She swallowed hard before answering. "It…you know how Pops used to keep personal journals about his own life?" she asked. The words were difficult for her, but she persisted. Dean nodded, remembering all the times she had come across very accurate and embarrassing details about their lives before her "without meaning to" by reading those books. She looked right up at him. Her eyes seemed tortured. "Well- I've never seen this one before."

"What is it, Bug?" Sam asked, making his way over to them, the stress of the moment taking its toll on him as well.

She couldn't speak for a moment, but dropped her gaze back to the open book. "It's…mine. This is a journal about me." Once again, Sam and Dean exchanged a quick look. They hadn't known Bobby had kept one about Natalie. Dean wasn't entirely sure how to phrase his question, so he just flat out asked.

"What did you find in there, kiddo?" For the first time in a while, she smiled, taking them both by surprise.

"Everything," she said, her voice catching a bit in her throat. She held it out to Dean for him to see for himself. He bent down, taking his time getting to the floor. Once he was there, though, he took the book and began flipping through it. It was crammed full of everything from journal entries to drawings to pictures. In the crease of the open book, towards the front, was a braided piece of rope. He picked it up with his calloused fingers.

"What's this?" he asked, curiously examining it.

"That's from when he taught me how to braid," Natalie said, her tone bordering between joyful and disbelieving. "I can't believe he kept it all these years."

The memory suddenly came rushing back to Dean. Natalie had been five, and had just started school. They had come back from a hunting trip to find that she had been taught how to braid her own hair. As a completely devoted fan of Frozen at the time, she had worn her hair in braids almost exclusively the rest of the year. It had taken some prompting and cajoling, but the boys had finally extracted the information- Bobby, the wizened, tough as leather old man, had taught the kid how to braid.

Dean chuckled, rubbing the twine braid in between his fingers. "Man, we razzed the hell out of him for that, remember, Sammy?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I do. He taught you how to braid with rope?" he asked his niece. She nodded.

"He used old twine that he had to keep newspapers together. I scattered papers everywhere pulling rope off of them so he would teach me," she said. She reached her hand out, and Dean gave her back the book. She reverently turned a couple more pages and landed on an old photograph. "Oh my god," she said, examining the picture that had been taped to a page. "This is my kindergarten photo." She turned the book around and showed Sam. Sure enough, there she was. Sam had to squint to make out the caption.

"'Little Bit just turned six'," he said, reading out loud. "'As one can see from the picture, she's thrilled about it'." That caused Sam to laugh, as the picture of the child was anything but thrilled. In fact, if looks could kill, the camera would have been toast according to the death glare on her face. "You look so angry here," he said to her.

"I was angry. I hated school so much. I was so pissed that I had to get this stupid picture taken," she said, tracing her finger over the dusty photograph. "I was imagining stabbing the picture-taker guy in the neck when he took this."

"You would," said Dean. He remembered how much he had laughed over this photo the first time Bobby had shown it to him. "What else is in there?"

Eagerly, she flipped further in the book. She found a fuzzy photograph of herself smiling wildly at the camera; a large gap was in her top teeth. "I remember taking this photo," she said, but with a confused look on her face. "But why is it all fuzzy?"

Sam leaned over, examining it. "Because we took it on my phone. Bobby probably printed it out after I sent it to him."

She looked at Sam, shocked. "You used to send him pictures of me?"

"Oh, all the time," Dean said. "You know, you drooling in your sleep, picking your nose, stuff like that." She rolled her eyes, but turned the page. Dean pointed at another photograph. "Yep, see, here's another one." He tapped on the picture of what looked like a four year old Natalie sitting next to Dean on the couch, intently studying a case file while Natalie intently studied Dean's phone. "God, I remember this. This was the day you got lost in the hardware store. After we found you, you wouldn't leave my side for like three days afterwards."

Natalie shook her head, still surprised that they had sent Bobby so many pictures, and that he had actually kept them. She kept flipping until she found some writing, wanting to see what Bobby had made notes about her on. She stopped on a particularly long paragraph, and after reading for a couple moments, made a face similar to the one she had been making in her class picture.

"What?" Sam asked, curious. She shot her bitch face at him.

"Nothing," she grumbled, but Dean was too quick for her. He snatched the book out of her hands, prompting her to squeal "Hey!" which is profoundly ignored. He read the passage for himself, finally guffawing out loud.

"We were just talking about when this happened," Dean said, chuckling again. Natalie made another swipe for the book, but Dean pulled it out of her reach. He looked at Sam, his shit-eating grin going full blast. "Listen to this, Sammy. 'That little brat had it coming to her. I only swatted her once, and she better be damned grateful it wasn't more than that. She knows better than to climb up on those shelves. If she ain't careful, she's gonna turn into an idjit just like the other two'." At that, Dean's own joyful expression turned sour over Bobby's proclamation, while Natalie barked a laugh.

"Okay, give it," she said, snatching the book back out of Dean's hands, still chuckling. She rifled through a few more pages. "Ah! Here we go," she said, holding the book up and clearing her throat. " 'Dean called and said that Natalie went on her first date tonight. I'm choosing the word 'date', because Dean made it sound like she was going to Woodstock with pockets full of PCP'." At that, Natalie lowered the book just enough for Dean to see her all-knowing smirk. She resumed reading. " 'Hard to believe that Little Bit is old enough to date. She's only fifteen, but she's so damned pretty I'm surprised she ain't been through a handful of boys. Both Sam and Dean had played the field plenty by the time they were her age, but she's been smart about it. Guess she's not going to be an idjit after all. Thank God. Finally, a Winchester with brains'." All three of them chuckled at that because it was just so- Bobby. After they had calmed down a bit, Sam looked at Natalie. She was biting her lip, trying to suppress a smile.

"What's that about?" Sam asked, pointing to her lip. She shook her head and blushed.

"I didn't know…. I mean, I didn't realize that he thought I was…pretty," she said in a shy voice, not looking at either of them.

"You nuts? Of course he thought that. You're gorgeous," Dean said in his tough guy voice. She just shook her head again, rolling her eyes and sighing, but couldn't quite keep the smile from her face.

"Shut up," she mumbled, grinning. She turned a couple more pages and found one that was dated only a few months ago. She quietly began reading it to herself.

"'Just got off the phone with Little Bit. She and the boys are hunting a banshee down in Wyoming. They've got it pretty much knocked in the head- she didn't really need to call. But I'm glad she did. She likes calling me to ask for help because she knows I like it when they need me. That kid knows more about banshees than anyone I've ever known, and that's because I taught her about them myself. She just wanted to make me feel needed.'

'Truth is, she has no idea how much I need her and the boys. Can't say it to another soul, because who knows who could take and run with that idea if they wanted something bad enough from me. But I just feel like I gotta write it down somewhere as a record. Those boys were the sons that I always wanted. They may have been John's but they sure as hell are mine, too.'

'And Natalie- well, she was an unexpected little game changer. I never took either of the boys to be the parenting type, but they've done so good by her I guess I was wrong. Either that, or she was just born perfect. Which is possible, if you think about it. She was the only thing that kept me from blowing my brains out when I got stuck back in that damned chair, so she saved my life. But not only that, she made my life worth saving. She reminded me that humanity isn't a doomed experiment- that there was a lot of good and right in the world. And I'm so damned proud of her I could burst, because she's taking her perfect little self and making the world perfect for everyone else.'

'I guess I also need to say how much it means to me that she still cares. So many other people would have given up on a withered old bat like me, but she never did. Neither did my boys. I've said it before and I'll say it again- Family don't end in blood. And I'm damned grateful for it.'"

Natalie's breath caught in her throat, and her eyes blurred with tears. What had been bothering her- what she hadn't been able to reconcile in her mind- was the frightening thought that Bobby didn't know how much he meant to her. That he had left this earth not knowing how important he had been to her, and how much she had loved him. This entry in his journal not only allayed those fears, but it reassured her that he had loved her deeply, too.

However, she wasn't ready to share that- not just yet. It was too raw and too real for her to talk about without crying, and she just didn't want to do that right now. She gently closed the journal and hugged it to her chest. Without looking at either of the boys, she spoke carefully. "Can I….keep this?"

"Course you can," Dean said without missing a beat, watching her carefully. Whatever she had just read hadn't upset her, but he could tell she was at the end of her emotional tolerance. However, before he could remark on that, Sam spoke.

"I think Bobby would have wanted you to have it, Bug," he said gently. He reached out a hand to stroke her cheek. She gratefully leaned into the comfort. When she turned her head away, getting too close to tears for her own liking, he reached down and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze as if to say _I won't let go._

Dean couldn't take it anymore- his heart was aching too much for her. He scooted next to her on the floor, and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. She leaned her small frame against him while still holding tight to Sam's hand, and felt herself really inhale and exhale for the first time in a few days.

"You gonna be okay?" Dean asked her, his voice laced with emotions that he didn't want to share yet. She was silent for a time, trying to come up with an answer. Finally she spoke.

"I don't know," she said bluntly. "I really don't know."

"Why don't you know?" Sam asked. She couldn't look at either one of them- she stayed leaning into Dean's chest as she answered.

"Because the definition of 'okay' has changed for me. Before, 'okay' meant that everyone was here, and fine, and…" She couldn't bring herself to say 'alive'. She plowed on. "But- I'll never have that again. Part of me isn't here, and won't be, ever again. So everything's changed. I know that I'll figure it out and find what 'okay' means again. But right now, I just don't have a clue what it means or when I'm going to figure it out. So I don't know if I'll really be 'okay' again."

The room was silent as the small family held onto each other, each searching for their definition of 'okay'.


	66. The Supply Is Still Demand Part 1

**Happy New Year, wonderful SPN Family!**

 **I hope you all had a happy and safe holiday season, and that your new year has gotten started right! I wish nothing but the best and the brightest for all of you!**

 **Special thanks to Jenmm31 for betaing this story, as well as being the best support system on the planet! Go check out her stories- she's got a bunch of them, and they're all fantastic. I strongly suggest the Emily and Kate ones- they're my favorite!**

 **Love you people- go love each other!**

 **A/N- This is part one of a three part story. In this story, Natalie is 19. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

 **Part 1**

She ran. She ran as fast as she could. She didn't know where she could go, but she couldn't stop. It would get her if she stopped. Her bare feet practically flew down the old oak staircase as she struggled for breath. Whether she was out of air from the running or the terror, she didn't know, but at the moment, it hardly mattered. She had to get away.

She slipped a little on the dark carpet runner in the hall in her haste, not being able to properly see it at this time of night, and let out an involuntary scream. As she gathered herself and took off running again, she couldn't help but look up the stairs. It wasn't right behind her- whatever it was. But that didn't mean it wasn't coming.

She flew into the small study, slamming the heavy oak doors behind her and bolting them as quickly as she could. She took gasping breath after breath, now that she was safe. The solid, sturdy, dark wood separating her from the creature was comforting in a bizarre way. It had to offer some protection. Her exhausted, crazed brain tried to remember if there was still a landline in the study that she could call the police from. She let herself take one more calming breath before turning around.

The creature was standing in the middle of the floor. She gasped again, terrified, before clamping her hands over her mouth to keep herself from screaming again. How had it gotten from the second floor to inside the locked room? The small figure reached out a gray, wispy hand towards her.

"Mama?" it said in a small, longing, ungodly voice. She shook her head violently.

"No, no, it's not me," she rasped, edging along the side of the room towards the desk. "I'm not your Mama." She quickly looked to her right- there was a phone on the desk. If she could only reach it-

The small creature's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Not Mama," it said in a foreboding voice as it stretched both tiny hands towards her.

The room turned a bright red. She heard a bizarre, high-pitched keen. She was dead before she realized it was the sound of her own voice screaming.

*SPN SPN SPN*

The steaming mug gripped tightly in his hands, Dean took a welcomed sip of coffee. As the liquid black gold rushed through his veins, he started aimlessly meandering through the hallways of the bunker. They had been here for about five or so years- holing up here when they were closer to Kansas than to South Dakota after a hunt. The discovery of the Men Of Letters Bunker had been fortuitous, but Dean had never really "rambled" through it before- he'd always been too busy.

He took his time walking down the hallway, sipping his coffee, noticing the walls, the rivets in the ceiling, the echoing thump of his large socked feet in the corridor. It was early enough that he wasn't surprised that Sam was still asleep. Natalie, however…

Dean wondered if his daughter had gone to bed at all last night. He had given up long ago on trying to make her have a normal sleep schedule. When she was tired, she slept- end of discussion. She was nineteen now- she could make those decisions for herself. Except when they had a case- then it was his way or the highway. If they were on a hunt, he made damn sure that girl got at least four hours every night to help her stay sharp. She always insisted that she didn't need it. She'd been throwing the same argument at him since she could talk. Only difference was she was slightly taller now than when she was two.

Just as he was wondering if she'd slept last night, he turned the corner into the war room. He stopped in surprise. Natalie was sprawled out on her back on top of the light-up table, her head off the edge, holding a newspaper, and apparently, reading it upside down. His brow wrinkled. He was used to finding her in weird places, but this one was new.

"Good morning?" Dean said, questioning her bizarre choice of position. Natalie lowered the paper towards the ground at the sound of his voice.

"Oh. Hey Dad. Morning." The paper went right back in front of her face.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked in his gruff voice. No amount of coffee ever prepared him for this girl.

"Looking for a case."

"Upside down?"

"It helps me think," she said from behind her paper. At that, Dean shrugged, and pulled out a chair close to her head. He wasn't about to argue until he was more awake. After another sip of coffee, he squinted at her paper.

"Find anything?" he asked, feeling the coffee spreading its warm joy through his senses. She dropped the paper to the ground with a sigh, letting her hands scrape the floor.

"Nothing," she said, the frustration clear in her voice.

"You know, not finding a case isn't the worst thing in the world, kiddo. Means people aren't getting hurt," he said, one eyebrow cocked at her. She sighed in typical dramatic fashion and sat up. Apparently she had been upside down for a while, because she gripped the table quickly as the world around her spun for a second. Dean hurriedly set his coffee mug down and reached out to grip her wrist.

"You okay?" he asked cautiously. After a moment, she nodded clumsily.

"Head rush," she said, quoting what had once been her favorite movie when she was a kid. She shook her head once more, then turned and faced him, wanting to talk about the lack of cases.

"I know it's not a bad thing, but I'm bored," she muttered, letting her legs kick back and forth. "We haven't been on a case in three weeks."

"So you miss the crappy motels and greasy diner food? The late nights and lacerations?"

"Yup."

Gripping his mug again tightly, he muttered. "Well, me too." After another slug of coffee, he patted her on the knee. "Something'll turn up soon, don't worry. Always does. Evil never rests."

She couldn't help it. She snorted a laugh, sounding just like Dean. "You sound like a Hunter's recruitment video." She adopted a pompous pose. " 'Only YOU can prevent Wendigos'," she said, pointing at Dean and using a deep voice, before grinning her father's shit eating grin back at him.

Dean's smirk twisted off to the side. "Watch yourself, otherwise I'll put the car keys up where you can't reach them again." At that, Natalie's bitch face came out, causing Dean to grin this time.

"That was so not funny."

"It was funny as hell."

Natalie just shook her head, her smile widening at the memory of her father's latest practical joke. "Well, I still won in the long run, so there."

"Letting a live ferret loose in the bunker does not count as winning."

"You're just mad because it crapped in your bed."

"Keep going. I'll hide your keys up even higher."

"Then I'm going to have to get a monkey that I can train to climb on stuff, retrieve keys, and pee in your boots."

Dean snorted out loud at that one. "You are so weird. You know that?" he said affectionately.

Natalie shrugged. "You didn't want weird, you shoulda dropped me off at the orphanage long ago. This is on you," she said, holding up her hands in mock sanctity. Dean just shook his head. A sudden thought occurred to him.

"Hey," he asked. "Have you checked with Jody lately? She might have heard something through the police channels that hasn't hit the mainstream yet." At that, Natalie's face lit up, just for a moment. But it was those moments Dean lived for. Natalie pulled her phone out of her back pocket to text Jody.

"You're so smart, Dad," she said proudly. Taking another sip of the liquid that woke his brain up, Dean grinned back.

"I have my moments," he said with a self-satisfied grin. As a new thought occurred to him, he cleared his throat, knowing he better tread lightly. "So. When was the last time you talked to Jody?"

Natalie instantly knew what he was asking, but wasn't giving in to it. She shrugged nonchalantly, but turned away from him under the pretense of pulling her legs up onto the table. "Been awhile."

"Since the memorial?" Dean asked carefully, watching her like a hawk for her reaction.

"Yeah. Somewhere around then," she responded. She tried to suppress it, but her voice grew a bit tight. She focused all her attention on her phone and blinked hard. Dean knew his daughter well enough to know that she was fighting off tears.

"Nat, look," he began, but before he could say anything else, she interrupted.

"Not getting good reception here. I'll be outside," she said in a controlled monotone voice. She slipped off the table, avoiding Dean's gaze. She raced up the metal staircase like her boots were on fire and shut the door behind her. Dean just sighed and dropped his head.

Just then, Sam walked into the war room, his own steaming mug of coffee in hand. "Where's Natalie?" he asked. He was sure he had just heard her voice a moment ago when he was walking down the hall. Dean snorted a mirthless laugh.

"Outside pretending she's looking for good reception on her phone," he answered. Sam's brow wrinkled in confusion, so Dean explained. "She's looking for a new case. I suggested calling Jody," he said, his eyebrows cocked. He knew Sam would follow his train of thought, and he was right.

Sam inhaled deeply and shut his eyes, almost feeling the pain his niece was in. "I don't think she's talked to Jody since Bobby's memorial."

"You're right- she said as much."

"So why did you suggest calling Jody? You knew it was going to get her upset again."

"Because she needs to start dealing with the grief, Sam. She can't keep shoving it down forever."

"That's the pot calling the kettle black."

"Yeah, you don't need to remind me. Look, Natalie's just itching for a hunt to distract her from being sad. So I'm trying to help her find a hunt. You know Jody hears crap before we do all the time. Maybe she's got something. And if this makes Nat deal with some of her baggage at the same time, then win-win."

Sam took a thoughtful sip. "Maybe. It's not like she held back when we were at home in South Dakota," he said. When Bobby had died and they had cleaned out his house, Natalie had talked, been open, even cried several times. But on the ride from South Dakota back to Kansas, she had gotten more and more quiet as the miles passed. When they got to the bunker, she was her normal self- until the subject of Bobby came up. Then she shut down so fast it was unreal. Both boys had tried to get her to talk about it, but she just flat out refused to.

"It's not like she hasn't lost people before this," Sam said, continuing his train of thought. "It's just…. this time, it was really family." Dean nodded in agreement, his eyes on the door at the top of the stairs. "At least we got to say our goodbyes, you know? At least she got some closure."

Dean tossed back the rest of his coffee and stood up. "Yeah. We ain't always so lucky," he grumbled, not wanting to discuss the topic anymore either. He looked at his brother. "So if she finds something, you game?"

"Of course. When am I not?"

Dean just shook his head. "That kid has more piss and vinegar in her than the both of us combined. Don't let her know I said this, but it's getting harder to keep up with her." Dean quickly looked at his brother. "Don't get me wrong- I CAN, it's just not as easy as it used to be."

Sam smiled ironically. "Tell me about it. But we'll keep hunting till we can't. Right?" He looked to his brother for confirmation. Dean nodded.

"Damn straight," Dean said, his grin back. "And it's getting easier to pass her off as an actual adult now that she's close to becoming one."

Sam snickered. "Why? Did she grow a foot last night or something?" Both brothers shared a chuckle. Natalie's clear height difference had always been the cause of much good-natured ribbing between the three of them. Natalie was a good foot shorter than Dean, and as her uncle continuously reminded her, a foot and four inches shorter than himself.

Still chuckling, Dean answered. "You know what I mean. She's starting to look like an adult. Won't be as hard to pass her off as an agent anymore."

"Well, she's definitely getting older," Sam mused, running his thumb along the edge of the table absentmindedly. "I really wish she'd have listened to me and at least thought about college."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Sam, will you let this go?"

"I'm just saying it wouldn't have killed her to look into it."

"You've been harpin' on the poor kid for three years. Let sleeping dogs lie."

"A degree isn't a bad thing to have, Dean."

Dean shook his head. "Degree ain't gonna help her gank a monster."

Sam snorted derisively. "You sound just like her."

"Well, she's right- she doesn't need college. She knows what she wants. I ain't gonna make her do something she doesn't want to," Dean said authoritatively. Sam couldn't help but smirk at the other little unspoken thing he heard behind Dean's words.

"And that has nothing to do with the fact that you don't want her going so far away from you, right?"

"Nothin' to do with it," Dean snapped, just a little too hotly. Sam just hid his smile in his coffee cup.

Just then, the door opened overhead. Natalie came prancing back down the stairs, looking like her old self again. Dean eyed her up and down looking for any signs of distress, but it was clear she didn't want to talk about Bobby or anything like that. And that she had good news.

"Jody says 'hi'," she announced. Sam nodded and swallowed his mouthful of coffee.

"She doing okay?" he asked. Natalie nodded in the affirmative.

"Yup. Alex is good, Claire still hates me, so everyone's good and normal. But Jody's got nothing either," she said brightly. Dean wrinkled his brows.

"Then why you soundin' so chipper?" he questioned. Natalie's thousand-watt grin lit up her face.

"Because after I got off the phone with her, I got a text from Jake." That got Dean's attention immediately.

"Jake? Jake who?" he asked, instantly suspicious.

"Jake my friend from when I was little," she answered promptly, like she wasn't causing her father to have a heart attack right then and there.

"I don't remember any Jake, Bug," Sam said, trying to figure out who she was talking to.

Natalie tilted her head to the side. "You guys remember when we were in Ohio that winter when I was six? I had just started back on the road with you guys. Dad, you took me to a park and I played with a bunch of other kids and kicked that bully's ass?"

Dean made a face at her. "How the hell do you remember that?" he asked.

"Because I'm a lot younger than you and my memory is better," she said, a saucy grin sliding onto her face. Dean just grimaced at her.

"You really want those car keys hidden, don't you, little girl?"

"ANYWAYS, Jake was one of those kids in the park then. When you took me back the next day, he gave me his phone number."

It was Sam's turn to laugh. "Wow. A player on the playground." He turned to Dean, grinning at his turn of phrase, but Dean was just glaring. Sam faced his niece again. "Wasn't he just a little kid then like you?" he asked, hoping to get back on topic.

Natalie chuckled. "Yup. He liked the fact that I could do cartwheels, so we stayed in touch." At that, Dean leaned forward towards her.

"You managed to stay in touch with him all through these last years? You didn't get your own phone until you were thirteen. How the hell did you pull that one off?" he said, dumbfounded. Natalie smiled smugly.

"Why do you think I was always stealing your phone? I got friends all over America," she said cheekily. Dean just shook his head and grinned.

"You little brat," he said admiringly. He started thinking about what a nineteen-year old Jake would want with his Natalie now, but before he could utter a syllable, Natalie held up her hand, knowing exactly where her father's brain was heading.

"Don't worry- nothing's going on between us. We're not sexting or anything like that," she said, trying to reassure him. However, at hearing her say "sexting", both Sam and Dean shuddered. Dean pointed a finger in her face.

"You ever say that word again, I'm cutting your tongue out with the demon knife," he threatened. Natalie rolled her eyes, but kept talking.

"Jake said that he heard about a case that might be us, though," she said, a sparkle returning to her eye. Sam held up his hand.

"Whoa- hold on there. This Jake knows what we do?" he asked, suddenly nervous.

Natalie put on a pacifying grin. "Ever since we were kids."

Dean suddenly stood upright. "You mean to tell me you've been telling people about this since you were six?" His voice had a dangerous ring to it. Natalie's eyes slid to his and knew she better diffuse the bomb.

"Not 'people'. Just Jake," she said quickly but soothingly. "You told me not to tell anyone. And I didn't tell him until I was like sixteen, and only because he forced it out of me. He's never told anyone," she said, her gaze going back and forth between them.

"You're sure about that?" Sam pressed. She nodded.

"Positive. He wouldn't lie to me," she said confidently. Sam and Dean exchanged a look, but both came to the same conclusion. What was done was done. And if this kid had known about what they did for three years, then Natalie was right- he hadn't told anyone. Otherwise, that information would have come to light much earlier and, more than likely, in a not-so-pleasant way.

Dean gave Natalie The Eye. "Anyone else we ought to know about?"

"No, sir," she said unwaveringly.

"Alright. So what did Jake have to say?" Dean asked begrudgingly. The sparkle immediately returned to Natalie's eyes.

"He said that he heard about an incident in Maine where a woman was found burned to death in her home, but there was no trace of anything else in the house being burned. Not even the floor underneath her was scorched," she said. "Sounds like something to check out, right?"

"How did this Jake hear about it?"

"One of his army buddies."

"Jake's in the army?"

"Yeah. He got wounded overseas- caught a bit of shrapnel from a bomb exploding. He's fine- he's made a full recovery. But he's now stationed in the U.S. and heard about this case through the grapevine. If the military guys have heard of it, it's probably legit."

Dean nodded, conceding her point. "Why don't you do some research, see what you can dig up, and then we'll reconvene in an hour."

"I'm on it!" she said, already halfway down the hallway in her excitement. Dean turned to Sam, his familiar grin in place.

"Feel like a road trip to Maine?"

*SPN SPN SPN*

The next afternoon, Dean and Natalie pulled up outside of the house in Saco Bay, Maine. Natalie had been able to zero in on the case, thanks to Jake's lead. It seemed that a woman had been discovered burned to death from inside her locked study, but there was no sign of arson, foul play, or even any other burn marks in the room. Sam had found some other local lore about a haunted lighthouse, so he was back at the motel trying to see if there was some connection, while also doing research on the rest of the area. Natalie and Dean had donned their Fed Threads, and hit the road.

As Dean handed over her fake ID, Natalie bounced enthusiastically. "Ooo, can I be Bad Cop this time?"

"No," Dean said without a moment's hesitation. Natalie's face fell into a pout.

"Why not?"

"Because A- we're just checking out the case, not interrogating someone. And B, you suck at being the Bad Cop."

"I do not!"

"Kid, you're great at a hell of a lot of things, but being mean ain't one of them."

"I can be a raging bitch. You know that better than anyone."

"Yeah- to me, or someone else you know that loves you unconditionally. But to new people? Forget it. You can't even frown at them."

"You are being overdramatic. I can too."

Dean just fixed her with a look, which she responded to with an eye roll. He pointed his finger in her face. "No Bad Cop. Understood?"

"Yes, sir," she grumbled, reaching for the door handle. Dean chuckled to himself as he exited the car. Leave it to him to have a kid who got testy for not being able to play the bad guy.

As they wandered up to the house, ducking under the yellow caution tape roping off the porch, a lady cop with salt and pepper hair walked up to them. "Can I help you two?" she asked, eying them warily as they wandered into her crime scene.

In tandem, Natalie and Dean both reached for their badges and flashed them at the cop. "Agents Plant and Jones, FBI," Dean said casually. The woman looked mildly confused, more as if their presence was an annoyance rather than unexpected.

"Chief Wilers," she said by way of introduction. "We never heard the FBI was getting involved," she commented coolly.

"Kind of a last- minute thing. We happened to be in the area, head honcho sent us over here to check out the situation," Natalie answered back evenly. The cop eyed the young girl once, but decided not to pursue it.

"Alright then. Right this way, agents," she said, turning on her heel and walking towards the room filled with other members of the local law enforcement. Natalie's eyes quickly scanned the room as she ducked around people taking fingerprints, pictures, and picking up small samples of stuff and putting them in plastic bags.

"Wow. Looks like you've got a lot of this covered, Chief," Dean complimented, looking around at the bevy of well-organized, professional people. Wilers nodded once, acknowledging the praise, but her lips were pursed tightly.

"We're trying to make up for lost time," she said, a touch of frustration in her voice.

"How's that?" Natalie asked.

"By the time the victim, Ms. Lovett, was found, she'd been dead for at least two days, according to our experts," she growled, clearly unhappy with the information.

"Two days, huh? Why did it take so long for someone to raise the flag on her?" Dean asked.

"Allegedly, she died somewhere between Friday night and Saturday morning. Can't pin the time down exactly- there wasn't much left of the poor woman to examine," the Chief said. "Her housekeeper wasn't due in till Monday, so no one was here over the weekend or even noticed she wasn't around."

"That's a shame," Natalie offered. "You said it was her housekeeper that found her? Any chance she was connected in some way?"

Wilers shook her head. "We've questioned her, but she's got a rock solid alibi. Not to mention she was the one who called it in. We don't think it was her," the Chief finished with authority.

"Any other witnesses?" Dean asked.

"None that have come forward. Her neighbors are snowbirds- more than likely on a beach somewhere in Florida right now. The house to the left hasn't had anyone in it for a couple months now. We've put the call out to the community, but it seems like no one even walks near this part of town, you know?"

As Dean and Chief Wilers continued sharing notes, Natalie wandered and looked around the room, careful not to disturb the people at work. The small plastic number tents that cops used to identify possible evidence were littered around one particular area of floor. Natalie could only assume that was where they found the victim. She casually walked over and squatted down. She took a tentative whiff, but there was no trace of sulfur, either in smell or appearance. She stood up and took a look, noticing the décor for the first time.

There were photographs everywhere- on every mantle, every bookshelf, ever surface. They looked like they ranged in age from the late 1800s to the mid 1930s. She tilted her head as she examined the old Victorian picture frames. These antiques had to be worth a bundle. She gently touched one of the picture frames, admiring the tiny, braided detail around the edge of the mahogany wood- it was just so pretty. She looked elsewhere, but every other place seemed to just have books and other tchotchkes in it- nothing terribly special.

Dean sauntered over to her. "Wilers is going to clear her men out for a hot second," he commented lowly in her ear, making sure no one could hear. "I'm gonna shake the sheets down here, see what I can find. You check upstairs, see if anything red lines on the ol' EMF."

"Yes, sir," Natalie said. She made her way out of the room, towards the stairs. She took a second to straighten the cockeyed hall runner with her foot before ascending upstairs. She waited until she was absolutely positive no officers were up on the second level before pulling out her homemade EMF detector and flipping it on. The needle spiked immediately, making her purse her lips just like Wilers had done downstairs. She quietly went from room to room, but the readout stayed firmly in the red the entire time.

After about ten minutes exploring the upstairs, Natalie heard Dean's whistle. She trotted back to the top of the stairs, where she saw her father waiting for her. He jerked his head to the right and walked back towards the study, indicating that she should follow. She took the stairs at a pace, and walked back into the study. All the officers had left, and it was just Dean, Chief Wilers, and a new face. Natalie smiled pleasantly at the younger woman, then looked to Wilers for an introduction.

"Fiona, this is Agent…" Wilers started, then looked to Natalie. "Sorry- I forgot. Been a lot going on these last couple days."

"Don't worry about it," Natalie reassured with a smile. "Agent Jones," she said, extending her hand towards the young woman. She took it nervously, shook it once, and then wrapped her arms tightly around herself. Natalie judged her to be about mid twenties.

"Fiona Rapp," the woman said, her eyes fixating on the spot where Wilers had said Ms. Lovett had been found.

"She's the housekeeper who- " Wilers began.

"WAS the housekeeper," Fiona interrupted nervously; her eyes still glued the spot. Wilers tilted her head and cleared her throat at the interruption.

"Excuse me. Was the housekeeper for Ms. Lovett." Wilers gave Dean a side eye, silently reminding him that this was the woman who had found the body. Dean returned it with a subtle nod before turning his attention to the young woman.

"Fiona? Is it okay if we ask you a couple questions?" he asked evenly. She shrugged.

"I'll tell you exactly what I told the police- I just found her here, dead. I didn't have anything to do with it," she said, copping a bit of an attitude.

"You seem awfully defensive for someone who doesn't have anything to do with it," Natalie jumped in immediately, trying to sound authoritative. Wilers and Fiona both looked at her with surprise, but Dean gave her The Eye, knowing exactly what she was doing. She was trying to play Bad Cop after he had just told her not to. Knowing that Dean would bench her immediately if she didn't shut up, Natalie just looked inquisitively at Fiona and tried to ignore the fact that she just stepped in it.

"I didn't," Fiona said hotly. "I was at my boyfriend's house, watching the game on Friday night."

"Look, Fiona, we know you didn't have anything to do with it. My partner gets a little big for her britches sometimes, and I apologize," Dean said, shooting his daughter another dagger-filled glance. Natalie just casually shifted her stance and tried to look nonchalant. "But we just have some routine questions, if that's okay."

The young woman shrugged again. "Sure, go ahead." Dean gave Natalie another side eye that clearly said _keep your mouth shut, I've got this_ before plowing ahead.

"Alright. Chief, will you excuse us?" he asked Wilers. Without a word, the Chief turned on her heel and went into the next room. "Okay, Fiona, when did you discover Ms. Lovett?" Dean proceeded to ask.

"On Monday morning, when I came in for work. She's usually making coffee just as I'm getting here. She wasn't in the kitchen, so I went looking for her. The study door was shut. I didn't even know that the study door shut, so I knew something was up."

"How did you get in?"

"There was a set of skeleton keys in the kitchen drawer. I tried them until I found the one that fit….and….." Fiona closed her eyes and turned her face away, unable to say anymore. Dean hurried to the next question.

"Now, did you see or smell anything unusual on Monday morning?"

"Unusual? Like more than the burned carcass of my boss?"

"Like cold spots, smells of rotten eggs, that kind of thing."

"Well- nothing more than usual."

"That kind of thing usually happened around here?"

"I never really thought anything of it. The temperature's always been touchy in this house, but I never thought it was unusual."

"Touchy like- always cold?"

Fiona nodded. "It's a super old house, so I just thought the insulation sucked. You just learn to wear a sweater around here."

Dean nodded, then his eyes flicked over to Natalie. He silently let her know she could jump in again if she had questions she wanted to ask, which she did.

"Fiona, how well did you know Ms. Lovett?" Natalie questioned. Dean gave her a bit of a warning glance, reminding her that this wasn't accusation time. But Natalie was fully aware of that; she had another string of questions in mind.

"Okay, I guess. I had been working for her ever since she moved here about three months ago."

"She had just moved in? Any idea why she moved?"

"She had just gotten a divorce, and was trying to restart her life." Fiona rolled her eyes. "Guess that didn't work out too well for her, huh."

"How did you find out about the job?" Natalie asked.

"She put an ad in the paper, saying she needed part time help for such a big house. I was the only applicant."

"The only one?"

"Oh yeah. This house has been abandoned for years. Apparently, she got a really good deal for it."

Natalie and Dean exchanged a quick glance, both on the same wavelength. "Why has a nice house like this been abandoned for so long?" Natalie questioned.

Fiona shrugged again. "No clue. Been empty as long as I can remember," she said. "We all just stayed away from it. Everyone in town thinks it's creepy- I'm not sure why. But the money was good, so I jumped in." After sharing another quick glance with his daughter, Dean nodded at Fiona once more.

"Well, thank you for your time. Here- this is my card," he said, handing over one of his fake cards to the young woman. "If you think of anything else that might be helpful to us, give us a ring." He looked at Natalie, jerking his head over his shoulder, indicating that it was time to go. She followed him, but Fiona's voice stopped them.

"Do you guys have any idea what killed her?" she asked bluntly. Dean's face instantly smoothed over.

"Not yet. But we'll figure it out, don't you worry," he lied gently. She just nodded, gripping her arms tightly again, before walking over to Wilers in the next room. With another nod to the Chief on the way out the front door, Dean said in a low voice, "So- haunted house much?"

"Tell me about it," Natalie muttered back. "The damn EMF was red-lining the entire time it was on."

"Yeah, I had a feeling it'd be something like that," Dean growled back, thinking. "Let's see what Sam dug up. And- by the way," he said, changing the subject. "Apparently you and I need to have another talk about following orders." Natalie's heart stopped for two seconds, till she nervously looked at Dean. He had a hint of a grin on his face, letting her know that he was just giving her a hard time.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," she said loftily, trying to smother her grin as well.

"Oh really, little Miss 'you seem awfully defensive'?"

"I was just asking her a question. Oh wait- did you think I was trying to be the Bad Cop?" she asked, all innocent and doe-eyed. Dean just snorted and shook his head. "Because see, that's how good I am at it. I wasn't even trying, and still came off like the Bad Cop."

"You are so full of crap. You know that?" he teased. She playfully nudged his shoulder as they walked towards the Impala, chuckling.

If either of them had looked back at the house at that moment, they would have seen the small, gray face staring at them from the second story window. But they didn't. As the car doors of the Impala slammed, the face disappeared.


	67. The Supply is Still Demand Part 2

**Good Evening! You look amazing today!**

 **So when last we left our heroes...hee hee hee. I know that's a stupid way to start this, I've just always wanted to do that. You fabulous people know what to do. Read, review, enjoy, and keep being awesome.**

 **Special thanks to my bestie beta, Jenmm31!**

 **A/N- this is part two of a three part story. If you haven't already, go back and read the previous chapter, otherwise this ain't gonna make a lick of sense. In this story, Natalie is nineteen. Please see Profile Page for disclaimer.**

Part 2

"Well, Sammy, whatdaya got?"

Sam looked up from his laptop as Dean and Natalie came crashing into the motel room. Natalie immediately tossed her jacket on Dean's bed and flopped face down. Sam looked at her patronizingly until she rolled her eyes, got back up and picked up her jacket.

"I was just leaving it there for a minute," she grumbled, walking towards the tiny closet on the opposite end of the room.

"Natalie, you need to take better care of your clothes," Sam scolded for the umpteenth time. "You're old enough to know that." Natalie didn't respond as she hung her jacket up, pawed through her duffel bag, and extracted running clothes. She walked into the bathroom, but left the door open a crack so she could hear what Sam had discovered.

Dean yanked his tie loose. "Just tell me where the corpse is so we can salt and burn the bastard," he said. Sam reared back in surprise.

"How'd you know it was a haunting?" he asked. Dean fixed him with his _duh_ look.

"Gee, I don't know Sam. Because I haven't been hunting for over forty years and have no idea what a freaking haunted house is like."

Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Then you also know it's probably not going to be that easy."

"What do you mean?" Natalie shouted from the bathroom, still changing.

Sam raised the volume of his voice a little, so she would know he heard her. "I mean that back in the early turn of the century, that house used to be an orphanage."

"Son of a bitch," Dean grumbled, knowing that this case just got a hell of a lot more complicated. "So you saying we're dealing with the undead children of the corn? How many kids died there?"

"Well, that's just it," Sam said, gesturing to his laptop. "I can't really get any record of anyone who died there at all."

"Hold up. Are you serious?"

"Yeah. Get this. According to the records and articles that I can find about it, it seems like it was a happy place, by all accounts, until around 1934."

"What happened in 1934?"

Sam shook his head. "Apparently, the orphanage just shut down. The woman who ran it-a…." Sam quickly clicked on anther open tab. "-Miss Cortadine…. Lydia Cortadine- died of tuberculosis, and no one stepped forward to run the place, so they just decided to shut it down."

"I thought you just said no one died there."

"She didn't die there. She died in a hospital near there."

"Doesn't mean she's still not haunting the old homestead," Dean jumped in. "What about the kids that were there at the time? What happened to them?"

"Uh," Sam said, looking for another tab he had opened. "Here it is. Says they were all transferred to another orphanage, and within three years, they had all been adopted." Sam looked up at Dean. "Doesn't really sound like there was any reason to cause vengeful spirits."

"Any complaints of child abuse or anything like that during Lydia's time here?" Natalie asked, emerging from the bathroom, her white shirt and suit pants folded over her arm. Sam watched her as she hung them up right next to her jacket.

"Thank you," he said, a bit prissy, gesturing to her clothing. Natalie barely restrained from rolling her eyes as she trotted back over towards them. Despite the fact that she was almost a legal adult, they both could have a tendency to treat her like a child. Sam returned his attention to his computer. "No, nothing like that. Like I said, by all accounts, all the kids were happy, well fed, taken care of, the works. There's nothing to suggest that anything bad went down."

"You think it's the woman haunting the house?" Dean pressed. "Unfinished business, looking for her kids, that kind of thing?"

Sam shrugged. "Maybe. Still doesn't seem like a reason a ghost would kill," he said, deep in thought.

"Yeah, well, since when have ghosts ever made sense?" Dean retorted. "Floatin' around all disembodied for decades can mess with a person's sense of right and wrong."

Natalie giggled at Dean's joke, then got back to business. "Any idea where the lady is buried?"

Sam shook his head. "Haven't gotten that far," he commented. But before he could say anything else, Natalie plopped down right onto his lap, and pulled the laptop closer to her so she could see better. After a moment of surprise, Sam pursed his lips and looked around to her face.

"Please. Make yourself comfortable," he said flatly.

"Thanks!" she responded brightly, continuing to type away.

"Bug, go sit in your own seat," he said, gently trying to shove her off his lap.

"Naw, I'm good. Besides, you used to love it when I did this."

"Yeah, when you were four."

"Don't know what you're complaining about. You're the one who always says that I haven't gotten any taller since then," she shot back. Both boys could hear the grin in her voice. If they were going to treat her like a child- well, two could play at that game.

Sam chuckled. "You got me there." He put his hands on either side of her without realizing it- an automatic throw back to when she would clamber up onto his lap as a kid and he would have to keep her steady so she didn't tumble off his lap in whatever excited state she had happened to be in at the time. He leaned over towards the laptop to see what she was typing.

"Aaaaaaaaaand- got it," Natalie said, clicking on the link in a satisfied manner. She leaned down and squinted at the screen. "Looks like this is the oldest cemetery in town. That's where we should go." She stood up and started to make her way towards the door.

"You found it that quickly?" Sam said, a little nonplussed that he hadn't been able to find it yet.

She shook her head. "Nope. No record of where she was buried. I'm just figuring she'll be in the oldest cemetery in town."

"Not exactly logical, Bug. It depends on when the town was founded, when she moved here, all that. You know that."

"So? We'll go check it out. What else have we got to do except dig her up?" she retorted, lacing up her sneakers.

"Kid, it's four in the afternoon," Dean reminded her. "We start digging up graves now, we're gonna get arrested."

Natalie just shook her head in amusement. "I'm not going to desecrate a grave in broad daylight. I know better than that, duh. I'm going for a run. You guys wanna join me?" she offered. Sam stood up, trying not to let the nonchalant nature of her conversation bother him.

"Sure thing, Bug, I'll join you," he said. "Give me a second to change." He snatched a pair of sweats from his duffle and headed into the bathroom.

Natalie turned and looked at Dean inquisitively. "What?" he said gruffly, knowing exactly what she wanted. She was nineteen- she knew better than to ask him to run by now.

"Come on, Dad. When am I going to get you to run with me?"

"The same day I join AA."

"It'll be good for you!"

"Squirt, I made it this far in life without jogging. I start exercising now, everything's going to get thrown off balance. It's more healthier for me to stay here and watch TV."

" 'More healthier'? Are you kidding me?"

Dean shrugged. "See? Just talking about jogging is making me loose brain power." Natalie couldn't help but chuckle.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Later on that night, around two a.m., the Winchesters stood back from the newly dug up grave. To the boys' disbelief, Natalie had been right- a fact that she had reminded them of several times during the dig. Neither Sam nor Dean responded to the taunts, but they had had several silent conversations behind her back. However, at the moment, they had more important matters to attend to.

Dean sprayed lighter fluid all over the rotted corpse. As he reached for his lighter, Natalie suddenly spoke.

"Can I light her up?"

Sam pinched his lips at her. "Natalie, show a little more decorum."

"Oh. Sorry. Can I _please_ light her up?" she said with a cheeky grin. Dean chuckled low; proud that she had gotten the jump on Sam for once.

"Just for that, absolutely you can," Dean interjected before Sam could tell her off again. Sam just stepped back and rolled his eyes. Natalie pulled a flip top Zippo out of her pocket. Carefully and precisely, she struck it against the leather sleeve of her black jacket. The lighter flickered to life instantly, and she dropped it into the open grave, immediately setting its contents ablaze.

Dean watched her entire performance, and gave her an appreciative nod. "You're getting better at that," he complimented, gesturing to the time-honored way that he always struck his own lighters up.

She shrugged proudly. "Been practicing." She turned to Sam with a smug smile. "That's how all the cool kids light their lighters."

Sam snorted a laugh. "If you're using your dad as an example of 'cool', boy, have you got a surprise coming."

Natalie laughed as she gathered up the shovels, Sam quickly reaching down to help her. As they made their way back to the car, Natalie stretched her neck from side to side. Despite the fact that she'd been going full speed all day, did a two-mile run this afternoon, and was still up at 2 in the morning after digging up a gravesite, she still wasn't that tired.

"Hey," she said suddenly. "We should go by the house- make sure that we got the ghost. You know?"

Dean sighed. This old act. She'd been avoiding bedtime ever since she was born. Now that she was older, she could actually think up legitimate excuses for staying up until doomsday, and it annoyed the crap out of him. "Kid, it'll wait till morning."

"Aw, come on!" she pleaded. "I'm not tired. Can I just go? By myself then? I'll drop you off at the motel and- "

"Absolutely not. Quit arguing with me. We're going home." Back in the old days, that would have been the end of it. But the older Natalie got, the more it seemed she tried to push the boundaries.

"It's on the way back. Just five minutes?"

Dean stopped in his tracks and turned around to face his daughter, who had broken out her best puppy dog eyes. "Are you gonna keep pestering me until I say yes?"

"Maybe."

"Fine. Let's go."

*SPN SPN SPN*

Around two thirty am, Dean cut the lights to Baby as they pulled up close to the curb. They had pulled up on the opposite side, just to keep anyone from seeing a car directly in front of the house that was being combed over for evidence of a murder. Natalie immediately bounced out of the car, while Sam and Dean just sat and thought for a moment. In tandem, the boys turned to each other and had another silent conversation. She rolled her eyes, then leaned down towards Sam's window and knocked. With a patient look, he rolled it down. She stuck her face back into the car.

"C'mon. The sooner we check the place out, the sooner you old geezers can get to bed," she said in a teasing tone. To her surprise, however, Sam gave her a bit of The Eye.

"Bug, I know you're all full of 'youthful energy'," he said. "But you know that you don't just charge into something like this. You need a plan."

"Aw, come on. We salted and burned the old broad…."

"Natalie….."

"It's a done deal. Let's just take a run through with the Ghostbuster gear and call it."

"Alright. That tears it," Dean said suddenly. He exchanged a knowing glance with his brother, who nodded back. Both boys got out of the car simultaneously, causing Natalie to step back. Sam exited the car, then turned and faced her, his hands jammed in his pockets, while Dean made his way around to the sidewalk. When he got to their side, he stood right next to Sam in the exact same pose. Natalie's eyes nervously flickered between the two. She used to get this face-off all the time when she was younger and in trouble, but she couldn't think of what she had done now.

"What?" she said, a touch of fear in her voice. She didn't care that she was nineteen- anyone would be nervous, no matter what their age, if the Winchester Brothers were facing them like that.

"Kid, you're being reckless and sloppy right now," Dean said firmly. Natalie's jaw dropped open. She was immediately hurt that he said that, but he wasn't done. "Not to mention immature. And I don't just mean tonight. You're not sleeping like you should, you didn't listen to orders when we went to check out the house the first time, and you're about to blast into that house like a freaking bull in a china shop. What gives?"

Natalie's face suddenly became stoic- just like Dean's did when he was shutting down. She crossed her arms tightly over her chest and stared at her boots, just waiting for the "talking-to" to be over. Sam exchanged another quick look with Dean before trying his hand at getting through to her.

"Listen, Bug- running off to conquer the world isn't going to help you right now," Sam said gently. Natalie knew instantly what he was getting at, but she didn't even want to think about this- not now.

"Don't know what you're talking about," she said evenly, continuing to stare at a beetle crawling slowly on the sidewalk.

"Natalie," Dean said, in a tone that meant business. The child inside of her shrank a little, but the adult wasn't giving in. She remained perfectly still, staring at the beetle like her life depended on it. "Look, squirt," Dean began again in a slightly less-rough tone. "We know you're having a hard time dealing with Bobby's death. Okay? It's not been that long, and that kind of emotional baggage- well, you don't get over that in a day. But that don't mean that you run off half-cocked into a dangerous situation. You're smarter than that. We know what you're going through, okay? Both Sam and I, we've been there before. And it sucks. But it ain't a reason to put yourself in danger. You hearing me?"

"Yes, sir," Natalie answered back, completely devoid of all emotion. Dean and Sam exchanged yet another silent glance. She was hearing them, but she wasn't listening.

"Tell you what," Sam said gently, reaching out a hand and putting it on her shoulder. She didn't react at all when he touched her, and Sam wasn't sure if that was a good or a bad sign. "When we get back to the motel, we'll have a couple beers and talk. Okay?"

"Yes, sir," she answered again robotically. Sam's heart turned in his chest. Why wouldn't she let them help her through this? Before either of them could make another argument, she shifted her weight and looked up. The same determined, stoic look was still on her face.

"So. What's the plan?" she said evenly, looking back and forth between them. Sam sighed. At least she was thinking somewhat logically again, if she was asking for a plan. A small step in the right direction. This kid was the most stubborn person on the planet- it was about the best they could hope for until her mind changed about dealing with the grief.

Dean pinched his eyes shut for a moment, before slipping back into work mode. "Alright. Rock salt shells and iron," he said, nodding at his brother. Sam gave a nod back in response, walking over towards Baby's trunk.

Still not making eye contact with her father, Natalie muttered. "I'll get the EMF," but before she could take one step towards it, Dean reached out and grabbed her by the arm. That caused her to look up into his face. She was expecting The Eye, but was surprised to see worry and concern there. He didn't say anything. He didn't need to. The fear in his eyes told her what he was thinking. Both her heart and her face softened.

"I'll be careful, I swear," she said gently. Dean set his jaw and nodded once.

"You better be," he said back quietly, but there was no trace of animosity in it. She smiled at him. He squeezed her arm once before letting it go and put his arm around her shoulders as they walked towards the arsenal in the trunk.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Armed to the teeth with a sawed off, crowbar, and trusty .45, the Winchesters silently made their way over to the house. Dean was in the lead, but Sam was right on his shoulder, Natalie jogging behind them. Father and daughter surreptitiously looked to the right and the left down the dark, moonlight-reflecting street as Sam withdrew a small leather pouch from his pocket. After a quick click of Sam's lock pick, they crossed the threshold into the living room.

Natalie and Dean both clicked on their flashlights, shining them all around at the heavy oak paneling and faded pictures. "Geez- all this dark wood in here makes it way creepier at night," Natalie murmured, looking around, pointing her flashlight at the photos.

"Yeah, 'cause there's not enough to freak people out at night already in this world," Dean grumbled in reply. "Come on. We'll start at the top and work our way down," he said, pointing his own flashlight towards the stairs, keeping his .45 at the ready. He started making his way towards the upper landing, Natalie right on his heels, when he noticed that it was only the two of them. He swung around, looking for his brother. He didn't have to look too far. Sam was looking at the old, gilded picture frames on the mantle.

"Sam, let's go," Dean said impatiently. Sam continued to stare at the picture.

"Natalie, come here," Sam said, completely oblivious to Dean's order. Natalie trotted back down the stairs and over to her uncle. He picked up the picture and held it out to her. "Do you see what I see?" he asked her quietly.

Natalie took the picture in her hand and pointed the flashlight at it. It was a picture from somewhere around the late 1920s, judging by their fashion. There were about five children in the picture, surrounding a lady who looked to be around thirty years old. "Hm- possibly one of the pictures from the orphanage?" she said to Sam, looking up at him. He shook his head and pointed to the picture again.

"Yes, but that's not what I mean. Look at the lady," he instructed. Natalie focused on the woman instead of the children, and got a sudden, uncomfortable jolt.

"Whoa- she looks like…" she trailed off.

"You," Sam finished her thought.

The woman in the picture had the same dark hair as Natalie, and judging from the size of the bun on top of her head, it was roughly the same length. Even though the photograph had faded to a sepia tone, her eyes were definitely on the lighter side. She had Natalie's chin and forehead, but the nose….

"I mean, the nose is all wrong," Sam said, in that uncanny moment of reading Natalie's mind. "But you see it too, right?"

Natalie nodded, and then handed the photograph back to Sam, still uncomfortable with the revelation. "Yeah- that's creepy weird."

"You two done? I'd like to get back to the motel before daybreak," Dean said, irritated. Both Natalie and Sam jumped a bit at that, and rushed up the stairs after him. They followed Dean's stomping boots and muttered under-his-breath threats all the way to the second floor. Natalie flipped on the EMF meter. The needle didn't move at all.

"Getting nothing," she said quietly, giving it a quick glance before looking up. She carefully examined the pictures on the walls of the upper landing, both intrigued and afraid that she would see her likeness again. But all of these pictures were of the children. She reached out and touched the ornate frame with its braided detailing.

"Wow. These Victorians sure knew how to decorate, huh?" she said casually out loud. Both Sam and Dean were busy examining the other rooms and didn't answer her. She shrugged, and kept checking the other rooms.

"All clear up here," Dean called out.

"Same," Sam replied. Natalie trotted out into the hallway, meeting both of them.

"Still getting nothing," she said, shaking the EMF detector. There was a strange rattling from it, which made her surprised. The detector shouldn't rattle like that.

Oblivious to that, Dean nodded once. "Alright. Scour the first floor, then high ho, high ho, home to beer we go," he quipped with a sarcastic grin. Sam shook his head and the three of them walked down the stairs.

Still concerned for the rattling sound she heard, Natalie tucked her flashlight under her arm, trying to point it at the EMF detector as she followed Dean down the stairs. She shook it again with both hands, and was rewarded with the same rattling sound as before. She flipped it over, and popped open the battery casing. One of the batteries had come loose. Cursing at herself for not checking it first, she pushed it back into place with her thumb. Instantly, the detector came to life and let out a high frequency squeal. She quickly snapped the battery casing back on and flipped the meter over.

"Dad," she said in a high, strained voice, stopping on the stairs. Dean turned around and looked at her. Wordlessly, she held the meter out to him. The needle was firmly buried in the red zone. Sam immediately whipped around, looking for anything behind them, while Dean's hunter eyes scanned the area of the stairs in front of them and the floor of the downstairs living room. As he turned back to Natalie to say something, he stopped again. He could see her breath.

As one, the Winchesters each immediately drew their weapons. Sam pointed the sawed off behind them, Dean's favorite silver .45 was trained on the ground level, and Natalie hurriedly jammed the EMF in her pocket and withdrew the iron crowbar she had tucked into her jacket. As one, the three of them moved down the stairs.

Just as Sam's feet hit the main level, the ghost appeared. Sam and Dean instantly trained their guns on the apparition, just as Natalie brought the crow bar up in a defensive pose. It was a ghost, all right. But what they weren't expecting was that the ghost was a child.

At first glance, it seemed like a faded copy of a photograph. The boy's hair was neatly combed to the side, and he was wearing shorts with a wool sweater. One of his shoelaces was untied. The wispy, deep gray creature tilted it head, looking at the three of them. Its eyes slowly scanned Sam first. He squinted its eyes, as if that would help him see better.

"What. The. Holy. Hell," Natalie hissed as the ghost continued its perusal of Sam. But the sound of her voice made it stop. The ghost focused its gaze on her. The little dead boy's eyes widened with wonder.

"Mama?" it whispered. Natalie felt a chill go down her spine. The ghost creature took a tentative step towards her. Both Sam and Dean reacted immediately, bringing their guns up to firing range again. The ghost boy stepped back, afraid. When neither Winchester lowered their guns, he turned on his heel and ran into the study.

Natalie could barely breath. She didn't know what to do. Her rather memorable and recent encounter with the ghost children of Ludlow came to the forefront of her mind. Those kids had been wild and out for blood. But this ghost child seemed different. It seemed- almost scared of them. She took a cautious step towards the study, but Dean's arm instantly shot out, blocking her path.

"Dad, cover me. I need to go see what it wants."

"No way. You stay put."

"Dad, it called out to me. It wouldn't talk to Uncle Sam. It wants to talk to me. I'll be careful. Just stay close by, okay?" she whispered urgently. Dean bit the inside of his cheek, but dropped his arm, begrudgingly giving her permission. She looked over at Sam quickly. He nodded once, keeping his eyes trained on the doorway to the study. Natalie took a couple careful steps forward, Dean pressed right up against her back. As they walked towards the doorway, Natalie saw the little ghost boy standing against the back wall of the study. With a smile that betrayed the fear she felt, she spoke gently.

"Hi. What's your name?" she said, trying to speak in a cheery voice. The ghost boy tilted his head again, studying her carefully. "Are you looking for your Mama?" she said. The word acted like a stimulus in the child.

"Mama?" he said, more clearly this time. Natalie definitely heard the urgency behind his voice. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for something- anything- that would help her get this ghost child to say something that could be useful. Her eyes landed on a photograph close by. It wasn't one of the antiques- it was modern. It was of a few children and a taller woman on a picnic in what looked to be a park of some kind. She slowly reached out and took the photo in her hand, then extended it to the ghost child.

"Is this your Mama?" she asked, pointing to the lady in the picture. The boy stepped towards her to get a better look at the picture. Natalie felt Dean immediately tense up. "It's okay, Dad," she whispered over her shoulder. "It only wants to look." Dean's answer was a dissatisfied growl, but she didn't acknowledge it. As the ghost child approached her, she slowly lowered the picture to his height.

The closer he got, the more Natalie noticed his truly unnatural appearance. Most ghosts were transparent, but besides his otherworldly gray color, he seemed almost real; almost as if she could touch him. She noticed the room getting colder and colder as he approached her. She tried not to let that make her panic, forcing herself to keep the gentle smile on her face. The ghost boy looked carefully at the picture, tilting his head just like he had when he was examining Sam. Natalie felt the corners of her mouth twitching. It was- in a bizarre way- almost cute to watch him do that.

The ghost boy examined the photo for another long moment, and then took a step back. "Not Mama," he said, pointing to the photo. The tone of his voice had shifted. There was definite anger in it. He took another step back from Natalie and turned his palm upward. Suddenly, it seemed to glow with a red, intense light. The picture frame in Natalie's hands turned the temperature of the sun. With a shriek, she dropped it on the floor. The ghost boy narrowed his eyes and turned his palm towards the picture. It instantly burst into flames, causing Natalie to jump away from it. Dean and Sam both shielded their eyes as the photograph suddenly lit up like the pyre from Burning Man. But Natalie's eyes were focused on the ghost boy.

She watched as his small, dead face twisted with maliciousness. His eyes widened as the flame from the picture grew higher and higher, almost in sadistic delight. Suddenly, the fire vanished, and all that was left of the picture was a bit of twisted, smoking, red hot metal. The boy tilted his head again, examining the remains of the photograph. This time, it didn't look cute. This time, it looked sinister.

Still trying to recover from the shock of the sudden bonfire, Dean blinked his eyes rapidly a few times. He suddenly realized that when Natalie jumped away from the fire, she had jumped to his right, her back pressed against the adjoining wall. His eyes flicked rapid fire between the ghost and his child, watching for any signs of distress that meant he needed to take action.

The ghost boy turned his attention back towards Natalie then, tilting his head, examining her again. His eyes took in her long, black hair, her small frame, and the crowbar in her hand. He looked back up into her face.

"Mama?" he said, the longing and desperation clear in his voice. Natalie suddenly understood.

"The woman who was here before- who was in this room before, a couple days ago," she said carefully to the ghost, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "That wasn't Mama either, was it?"

The ghost boy shook his head violently, causing her heart to stop for a moment. "Not Mama," he said, in a terrifying growl. He stepped backwards- right over the spot where Wilers had all of her plastic evidence markers grouped earlier in the day. The ghost boy waved his hand once over the spot.

Suddenly, an image of a woman screaming, engulfed in flames and writhing on the floor, re-illuminated the study. Natalie gasped in horror as she watched the vision of what she could only assume was Ms. Lovett burn. The ghost looked down at the fiery apparition with glee.

"Not Mama," he said, looking at Natalie and nodding. She understood what he was trying to tell her. Ms. Lovett must had told him that she wasn't his mama- and he had taken his revenge upon her for it. Natalie swallowed hard and nodded back, showing that she understood. The ghost child waved his hand again, and the horrific vision disappeared. The boy's eyes flicked back up to Natalie.

"Mama?" it asked again in desperation. Despite the frigid air in the room, Natalie broke out in a cold sweat. She gripped the crowbar tightly in one hand, and reached behind her with the other hand, pressing it to the dark wood, getting a feel of how backed she was against the wall. The boy's eyes narrowed on the crowbar in her hand. He looked back up into her face. He reached one chalky gray palm out to her.

"Mama?" he asked more insistently this time. She could hear the anger in his voice again. Even if her own voice had been able to work at that moment, what would she have been able to say? She wasn't this boy's mama- and if she said that, he would light her up faster than a roman candle on the Fourth of July. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her eyes focused with panic on the palm stretched towards her. It began to glow red.

Suddenly, a gunshot rang out in the small room. The ghost boy exploded in a cloud of gray, wispy smoke. Dean kept his gun pointed at the spot where the ghost had been a moment ago as he lunged towards his daughter. Grabbing her by the collar, he pulled her in front of him quickly. "SAM!" he roared as he shoved Natalie out of the room. She understood immediately, and took off running. Dean stayed hard on her heels, but looked behind him. Sam was bringing up the rear, keeping his eyes on their backs, covering them both as all three tried to make a hasty exit.

Suddenly, the ghost child appeared on their left. It stretched out its hands towards Natalie again. "Mama!" it yelled, but before it could make any move, both brothers locked in on it and shot it in the face. The ghost disappeared again with a wail.

"Go go go go go!" Dean screamed, causing Natalie's feet to fly faster. All three of them tore out the front door and across the street. Natalie ripped open the back door of the Impala and dove in, Sam right behind her, slamming the door behind them both. Plunging into the driver's seat, Dean gunned the engine and peeled off into the night. All three of them couldn't speak for a moment, just trying to catch their breath.


	68. The Supply is Still Demand Part 3

**Hey hey hey beautiful family! How are you doing today? GUESS WHAT TOMORROW IS? End of hellatus, yippee! Oh, also, I'm going to my first SPN con :) I'm only slightly freaking out excited. Okay, I'm losing my mind excited.**

 **Anyways, here's part three! Thank you to all of you who take the time to read and review, and let me know that you still love Natalie as much as I do. I appreciate you guys just so much, I really can't express it. Shout out to my sis, Jenmm31, best beta ever. Go check out her stories and show her some love- she's the only reason I'm here. Her works are fantastic, seriously, enjoy.**

 **Okay people, do what you do- read, review, ENJOY! Love you jerks and bitches and idjits and assbutts.**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is nineteen. This is part three of a three part story. If you haven't, please read the previous two chapters, otherwise this ain't gonna make a lick of sense. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

Part 3

"What. The Fuck. Was that?" Natalie gasped, still trying to catch her breath. In the backseat next to her, Sam had been leaning against the seat, his head tilted back as he tried to regulate his breathing as well. He turned his head and looked at his niece. "Sorry, Uncle Sam," she said, still gulping for air. She knew he hated it when she swore.

"Well, in this case, I think it's the only appropriate response. What the fuck WAS that?" Sam said back, a little twinkle in his eye at her. Despite the fact that her lungs still felt like they were on fire from their mad dash out of the haunted house, she giggled a bit.

Dean drove back to the motel like a bat out of hell, barely saying two words. The moment they screeched to a halt, he ripped the key out of the ignition, barreled over to Natalie's side of the car, and all but hauled her out of the backseat, pulling her into his chest. She had been expecting it. Any time she had a close call on a case, it was like Dean needed to hold her afterwards, just to make sure she was still intact and safe. She let him drag her out of the car and wrap her in his arms. Truth be told, she didn't really mind all that much. She found just as much comfort in it as he did.

After holding his daughter for a moment, he released her, and held her away from him at arm's length, leaning down a little to look her squarely in the eye. "You okay?" he demanded gruffly.

She nodded back. "Yeah, Dad, I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Sure."

"Alright then. Come on." Dean released his grip and turned towards the motel room. All three Winchesters made their way in, and Dean closed and quickly dead bolted the door behind them. Sam was at the ready with the container of salt, pouring a thick line at the base of the door. Natalie rushed over to check that the lines were still intact at the windows. Once they had secured themselves, as one, they turned towards the center of the room and just looked at each other. A moment of silence followed.

"Okay, seriously, what the fuck was that?!" Dean finally roared, shattering the silence. Sam shook his head, his hands on his hips.

"I don't know, man. That was insane," he said simply, trying to piece together what had happened.

"Have you guys ever seen a ghost that acted like that before?" Natalie asked, looking back and forth between them. Sam and Dean shared a questioning look as they quickly flipped through their brains, trying to remember.

"We've seen some ghosts that have been able to pick up objects and kill people," Sam said, still looking at Dean while racking his brain. "But I don't ever remember seeing one with pyro kinetic abilities."

Dean rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Yeah, well your fancy name for it don't change the fact that that thing can go 'Flame On' when it doesn't get its way." He looked over at Natalie. "You did good to keep it at bay as long as you did," he said briskly, but not unkindly.

She nodded back, appreciating the praise. "Thanks. So creepy ghost boy is obviously looking for something…"

Sam nodded again before crossing over to the table to sit. "It kept saying 'Mama'. I think it's looking for its mother," he said, flipping open the lid to his laptop. The blue screen glowed to life immediately. He quickly typed in his password, and began hunting. "It seems like it's one of the kids from the orphanage. Maybe we can find some link to its family…"

"His," Natalie interrupted quietly. Sam stopped speaking and looked at her in surprise. She inhaled deeply before answering. "You keep calling him 'it'. It's a little boy," she said, looking at the wall, not wanting to meet his gaze, and not exactly knowing why it bothered her that Sam kept saying "it".

Sam just stared at her for another second before recovering. "Yeah- uh, right. Sorry. 'His' family," he restated, looking again at his niece. Natalie nodded once, awkwardly, then crossed over towards the couch and began unlacing her boots to give both her eyes and her hands something to do. Sam and Dean shared another brief but concerned look.

Trying to avoid the awkward moment, Dean crossed over towards the table and sat down opposite Sam, cracking open his own computer. "You think we're gonna find birth records on a kid born like a hundred years ago?" he said skeptically, punching his own password in. "Besides, even if we can dig up this kid's mother, what good is it gonna do?"

Sam shrugged. "It may give us an idea about what we're dealing with here," he said, returning his attention to the screen. "Like maybe there's an indecent with fire or maybe the boy's parents died in a fire…"

"It's a good idea," Natalie piped up, walking over in her socked feet. She scooted over to the chair by her own laptop, her fingers flying as she unlocked it. Despite the fact that it was nearly three in the morning, the Winchesters got to work. They were all too keyed up from their hundred-yard ghost marathon to do anything but. However, as the clocked ticked on and the adrenaline wore off, even Natalie found herself yawning. When the clock hit 3:30 AM, Dean closed the lid on his laptop.

"Alright. There's no point in burning the midnight oil right now. We need shut eye," he said authoritatively. Sam just nodded tiredly, closing his own laptop. Natalie was resolutely ignoring both of them. Dean finally stood up, leaned over, and shut her laptop right in front of her face. She huffed and looked up at him.

"Bed. Now," he commanded. She was about to open up her mouth and protest, but he gave her The Eye that had been curtailing her behavior since birth, and she knew it was pointless. She thumped back in her chair, glowering. Dean turned on his heel and made his way towards the bathroom. Sam chuckled at the old, familiar scene.

"Bug, it's really late. You know the rules when we're on a case," he reminded her gently. He expected her to roll her eyes or offer up some sarcastic response. Instead, he was surprised when she bit her lip and looked away, crossing her arms tightly. Sam immediately reached out a hand and placed it on her shoulders. "Hey- you okay?" he asked, his voice full of concern. He hadn't gotten the answers he wanted from her back on the street when he and Dean had been telling her off, but now she wasn't shutting him out like she had been. She didn't answer right away, but Sam wasn't letting go. He kept gently rubbing her shoulder until she spoke.

"Nights just suck right now. More so than normal," she said in a low, clipped tone. Sam nodded in sympathetic understanding. He himself had had too many "nights that sucked" to not know what she was talking about. He stood up, right next to her.

"Hey. C'mere," he said softly. Without missing a beat, she stood up and wrapped her arms around his waist, burrowing into the soft flannel of his shirt. Sam smiled sadly, and held onto her, as tightly as he could. After a moment, he put one hand on the side of her head, pressing her into his chest. He knew she had always liked that when she was younger- it gave her an added sense of security. He felt her relax a bit in his arms, now. He dropped a kiss on top of her head.

"It's okay, Bug. I got you. It's okay," he whispered. She didn't respond verbally, but nuzzled deeper into his chest. He just stood there holding her for a moment, till she suddenly pushed away from him, using the backs of her hands to wipe under her eyes.

"It's fine. I'm fine," she muttered, not looking up at Sam. He wasn't buying it.

"Natalie, we can still talk about Bobby…" he began tentatively, but upon hearing her Pops' name, she shook her head.

"I need to go to bed now," she said, shaking her head again, still avoiding eye contact.

"Are you going to be able to sleep?" Sam asked as gently as he could, knowing that this was part of the real issue. She had never liked sleeping, but when forced to, she fell asleep at the drop of a hat. She wasn't used to things keeping her up at night, and he knew that it scared her more than she was willing to say.

Unexpectedly from behind them came a deep, gruff voice. "Here. This'll help." Dean walked towards the three of them, whiskey bottle in one hand, three small glass tumblers clutched in the fingers of the other hand. He had overheard enough of the conversation to make an educated guess as to what was going on with his daughter, and as usual, he was right. He plunked the glasses down, quickly unscrewed the lid, and poured out three shots of the honey-colored liquid.

"Come on. The family that drinks together, stays together," he quipped, bringing a grin both to Sam and Natalie's faces. They downed the shots, Natalie coughing a bit on hers. Sam watched as Natalie and Dean both shook their heads in tandem as the whiskey burned their throats, then silently exhaled on a "whoo" in perfect unison. He tried to suppress his smile, but it was still amusing to him, watching how much in sync the two of them were, even after nineteen years. When she looked back up at Sam, he was happy to see some of the pain in her eyes had dissipated.

"Thanks, Uncle Sam," she said shyly. He smiled at her, and pulled her in again.

"I love you, Bug," he said, squeezing her tight.

"Love you too," came the muffled reply. Sam let her go and turned, picking up the three shot glasses and heading towards the sink. She looked up at Dean.

"Thanks for the shot. It did help," she admitted with a guilty smile.

"Hey," he said, looking at her with adoring eyes. She grinned back, still loving that look.

"I know. You too," she said, stepping forward into his arms. He squeezed her tightly.

"I know. Now go to bed."

She giggled. "Yes, sir."

*SPN SPN SPN*

The next morning, Natalie was, of course, the first one awake. When the boys came to around 11 am, she was typing away on her laptop.

Groaning his way towards the full coffee pot, Dean grunted out, "What time." It wasn't a question and they all knew it.

Natalie rolled her eyes. "I slept in till 8:30," she said, sounding ticked. However, both boys knew it wasn't because she hadn't slept in- it was because, in her mind, she had gotten a late start on the day. For the kid who was used to waking up at 5:30 naturally, 8:30 was practically half the day wasted. Sam fixed her with his own Eye upon hearing her confession. She knew she was supposed to get over four hours, and that was barely cutting it.

"I did!" she insisted. He could tell she wasn't lying- there was no rush in his blood indicating that she was trying to get away with something.

He nodded at her approvingly. "Well good. Does you good to see how the rest of the world actually functions," he teased. She just grinned back and shook her head, apparently feeling better than she had last night. Sam didn't want to make her upset again, so he didn't bring it up. Instead, he plopped down next to her at the table. "Find anything?" he asked.

She grinned triumphantly. "Boy did I," she gushed. She turned the laptop towards him so he could see. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and squinted at the tiny writing of the old fashioned document she had pulled up out of the dregs of the Internet. She snickered at him.

"Want me to find your reading glasses, Gramps?"

Without looking at her, Sam put his gigantic hand on her face and gently shoved her back, causing her to giggle again. He grinned as he continued to scan the document.

"So…this is a… birth certificate?"

"Yup. From 1929."

"Why is this our ticket to cracking the ghost kid case?" Dean said in his raspy-still-not-awake voice.

"Check out the name on the birth certificate," Natalie said triumphantly. Dean held up a hand to her.

"Take it down a notch. It's too early to be that happy." He leaned in past her smirking face to look at the computer with his brother. Before she could open her mouth, he pointed a finger at her. "One comment about reading glasses and I'll nail your ass to the wall." Natalie just giggled to herself. Sam commented first.

"So- the name- Enoch Smith?" he questioned, looking Natalie. "Who is Enoch Smith?"

She shook her head. "Not that name. Check out the mother's name." Sam focused and squinted again. He searched for the mother's name, and when he found it, his jaw dropped.

"Lydia Cortadine," he whispered. Natalie nodded again enthusiastically.

"Wait- wasn't she the chick who used to run the orphanage?" Dean said, the coffee nudging his brain into working.

"One and the same. Looks like she had a child out of wedlock. See?" Natalie said, pointing at the document. "No father listed. Generic last name." She leaned back in her chair, proud of her discovery. "I'm guessing this is our ghost kid."

Sam and Dean looked at each other. "I guess it could be," Sam said hesitantly. "A kid that actually belonged to the lady who ran the orphanage…"

Dean nodded, following Sam's train of thought. "She wasn't married- probably would have gotten fired from her job had they known she had a brat of her own."

"It would be the perfect place to stay and hide with an illegitimate kid."

"Where you could still see him and support him…"

"-without having to admit to the world that you're a giant whore bag."

"Dean."

"So she dies in 1934- that means the kid's only five when she passes."

"He's left alone, no mother, no father. Enough to make a kid vengeful."

"You think?"

"But didn't the article say that all the kids got adopted? He should have gone on to a happy, healthy family."

"You know you sound like a giant girl when you say crap like that, right?"

"Hang on," Natalie interrupted, already hard at work on her laptop. "I think I got it. Check it out," she said, pointing to the screen. "Enoch Bary, aka Enoch Smith- was declared insane at the age of ten." She leaned back in her chair, tilting her head back and covering her face with her hands like she couldn't handle the terrible truth of what she was reading. "And dead at fourteen. That poor kid," she murmured, her hands covering her mouth. Sam reached over and rubbed her shoulder, trying to comfort her. "So this might not be our kid. He didn't die there in that house, and he wasn't that age when he died. The ghost is definitely younger than fourteen."

Sam shrugged. "Sometimes after death, people revert to a particular traumatic event in their lives. He could have de-aged."

Dean nodded in agreement. "They're not always tethered to their places of death either, if that's not where their big psycho snap happened in life."

Natalie shook her head. "It just seems like there's something else, you know? Like I get that the traumatic event of losing his birth mother made him go all Looney Tunes, but how is it that he's got pyro kinetic abilities? How is it that he's so corporeal?" Before Sam could speak up, Dean grinned widely and pointed at Natalie.

"See?" he said to Sam. "That's why she doesn't need college. She's already using all kinds of ten-dollar words." He turned his proud smile on his daughter. "You're so damn smart, you know that?"

Natalie playfully rolled her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. But do you see what I mean? Like- I could have sworn that… I could have touched him when he reached out to me." That statement immediately got Sam and Dean both tense, which she promptly noticed. "Don't worry, I wasn't going to," she said quickly. "But it doesn't change the fact that if I would have touched him, he would have been solid. Something other than his tragic past is keeping him trapped here. I know it."

Dean rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. "Well, you may be on to something kid, but the important thing is going to be how to get him un-trapped." He gestured to the computer Natalie had been working on. "Any clues where he's buried?" After a few flutters of her fingers, Natalie shook her head.

"He was cremated after he died. Typical practice in Victorian times with mental institution patients."

Dean growled low in his throat. "Great. No bones to burn. Should have known this wasn't going to be easy." He turned to Sam. "Got any ideas?"

Sam had been sitting back, his fingers tapping his lips as he thought. He looked over at Dean. "One. But you're not gonna like it."

*SPN SPN SPN*

Later on that night, the Winchesters had, once again, pulled to the curb opposite the haunted orphanage. Dean looked in the backseat at Natalie, double-checking the hastily scrawled notes from this afternoon's phone call. He gritted his teeth and looked at Sam.

"There's got to be another solution," he growled at his brother.

"Dad. Give it a rest," she said before Sam could reply. "I'm not going to be in any danger at all. Besides, she owed me a favor."

"With Rowena, there's always a catch to her favors."

"She's owed me a big one for a while now. Once I reminded her of that, she assured me that it was just a spell- nothing more. Not to mention, she likes me way more than she likes you two."

Dean shook his head and glared at Sam. "If this goes south, this is on you."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Dean, for the one millionth time. The spell will trap the spirit and send it on."

"Yeah, well- what if it doesn't even show up?" Dean asked, grasping at straws for a way out of using a witch's spell.

"Got that covered," Natalie piped up, holding up another paper. "This is a summoning spell- just in case. But I don't think we're gonna need it. Just call it a back up." Seeing that he was outnumbered, Dean slapped his hands onto his thighs.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You two are freaking geniuses. Let's get this over with," he grumbled as he exited the car. Natalie took the bag of herbs with her out of the backseat as Sam opened up the trunk and extracted a scrying bowl. Amidst Dean's muttering about how much he hated "freaking witches", they carefully made their way towards the house. As they got closer, Sam fell in the lead, with Dean close by Natalie. If that ghost kid made one wrong move towards his daughter again, he was prepared. He gripped the sawed off that was chocked full of salt rounds tightly, as if it would disappear if he didn't hold on tight enough.

They carefully made their way towards the study, keeping one eye open for the boy. Sam quickly cleared a surface on the desk and set the bowl down. "Alright Bug, let's do this," he said quietly. Natalie quickly stepped up to the desk and plunked the bag full of the spell ingredients on top.

"Hurry up," Dean commanded in a gruff voice, checking all around as they worked. Natalie extracted the notes from her pocket and handed them to Sam, who started measuring out ingredients as fast as he could. She turned around just in time to see the boy materialized out of nowhere into the middle of the room.

She gasped loudly, causing both Sam and Dean to turn around and see him. However, upon registering that the ghost was back, Sam whipped back around towards the bowl, working twice as fast as he had been, knowing that the clock was truly ticking now. Dean trained the sawed off on the boy, but didn't fire. He just held it at the ready.

The ghost tilted his head again, looking at Natalie, much in the same way he did the first time he saw her. "Mama?" he said in his cold, little voice. Natalie knelt down slowly to his level, knowing she had to keep him occupied as long as possible in order to give Sam time to finish the spell.

"Enoch?" she said quietly. The ghost boy took a step back, his eyes widening. No one had called him that name in years. Not since…

"Mama?" he said again, this time, more urgently. Natalie smiled at him.

"Is your name Enoch?" she asked again. The ghost boy nodded and took one step towards her. Dean's knuckles nearly split through his skin as he tightened his grip on the sawed-off.

"Sam," he growled, pleading, low under his breath.

"Almost," Sam hissed back, his hands flying as he tossed bones and herbs into the bowl. Natalie didn't dare take her eyes off the boy, but she overheard the exchange. She smiled again at the boy, as calmly as she could.

"It's okay, Enoch. It's okay. We're here to help you," she said slowly, trying to see if he could understand. Enoch tilted his head the other way, trying to make sense of her words. Then he saw the boys.

His eyes narrowed as he took in the shotgun in Dean's hands. That was the thing that hurt him before. His gaze slid over to Sam, who dropped the last item into the bowl and turned around, snatching the paper up to read the spell.

He didn't like this. He didn't like this at all.

As quick as lightning, he extended his hand towards Sam. "Not Mama," he growled. Sam yelped as the paper in his hands burst into flames. He dropped it and backed up against the desk.

"No, Enoch! Don't!" Natalie cried out, watching Sam in horror. The ghost child turned his attention to Dean.

"NOT MAMA!" he screamed in a high-pitched ungodly cry, causing the glass in the pictures in the room to shattered. All three Winchesters covered their heads as the room became filled with flying glass shards. Natalie felt a couple pieces slice her hands as they protected her head. The instant she felt safe to uncover herself, she looked again, desperately for Enoch. He was raising a glowing hand towards Dean.

"NO!" she screamed. The ghost child paid no attention to her as a savage, hungry look crossed his face. She couldn't take it. She gasped, and got a sudden crazy idea.

"Enoch, stop!" she commanded in a loud voice. Every head in the room turned towards her loud, authoritative voice, as if they were bidden to do so by the sound. She inhaled deeply, and spoke again.

"It's me," Natalie said evenly. "It's Mama."

Dean's skin turned pale and clammy. What the hell was she doing?! "Natalie!" he hissed. Natalie turned to him. He could see the desperation mixed with the determination in her eyes. He had never seen it so strong before.

"Dad, don't," she whispered back. She turned her face back to the ghost boy, whose palm was still stretched towards Dean, but was no longer glowing. "Yes, Enoch, that's right. It's me," she said in a gentle tone. Enoch tilted his head again and took two steps towards her, his cool, gray hands moving to extend to her.

"Natalie, you stop this," Dean hissed again, panicking as the ghost boy started towards his little girl. "Stop it now."

She shook her head and turned her face towards him again. "I can't," she said. He was shocked to see tears in her eyes. She never cried. "I can't let him hurt you. I can't lose you too."

 _Too?_ Dean thought to himself. Natalie looked at the little boy, whose face was a mask of longing. She extended her arms towards him, inviting him in. He rushed into them, and she closed him in her embrace. He was exactly what she thought he'd be- solid to the touch. But he was cold. She brushed her hand through his hair. It felt like frozen straw. But she could feel the despair, the hurt, and the confusion radiating off of the child. She held him tighter.

"It's okay," she whispered. "It's okay, Enoch. I know. I know what you're feeling." Enoch leaned back. His dead, gray eyes searched her wet, green ones. "I know what it's like to lose someone who's important to you. All you want is them back, right?" she said.

Enoch nodded. "Mama," he said, and there was a trace of sadness in his tone. Natalie nodded in understanding as memories of Bobby flooded her mind.

"You feel like your heart has been torn right out of your chest, don't you?" she said, unable to stop the tears from sliding down her face. "You feel like even if you could find your heart again, that you don't know if you want to put it back, because that might hurt even worse. Right?" The ghost child nodded sadly, and put his arms around Natalie's neck. Natalie pressed her hand gently on the back of his head, pulling him in tighter, just like Sam did to her.

Dean's lungs closed off. Hearing her confession about how Bobby's death made her feel- really feel- was like going through the pain of losing him all over again. He couldn't leave her like this. He had to help. But if he made one wrong move, the ghost child could set her on fire before they could send him on to the afterlife. He looked up at Sam, panic screaming in his eyes to help his child. Sam's face was just as horrified, trying to come up with a way out of this and coming up empty. They had lost the spell to banish the ghost. They couldn't burn his bones. What were they going to do?

Dean's eyes frantically darted around the room, looking for something- anything that would get this ghost child to let go of his Natalie. They landed on a picture of the woman who looked like her. She was holding the hand of a little boy- who looked exactly like Enoch. In an instant, an old, almost forgotten fact burst into his mind.

"Sam," he hissed. Sam's terrified eyes slid to Dean. "The other spell," Dean mouthed, not wanting to draw attention to either of them so Enoch wouldn't freak out and hurt his baby girl. Sam looked confused as hell for a moment, but slowly pulled the other spell out of his pocket, trusting that Dean had a plan. He checked the list of ingredients needed for the summoning spell. There were a few more in the scrying bowl than were needed for it, but essentially it was all there- except a piece of something that belonged to the person you were trying to summon. Dean carefully picked up the picture frame and ever so slowly made him way towards Sam.

Meanwhile, Enoch finally leaned out of Natalie's embrace again. "Mama," he said, the relief palpable in his voice. He gently poked Natalie's nose, causing her to give a watery giggle.

"I know, I look a little different," she said. "But listen to me. You can't hurt the other two in the room with us." Enoch's gaze lifted to the boys, who both immediately froze. Natalie gently put her hands on Enoch's cold cheeks, turning his gaze back to her. "You can't hurt them. Do you understand? I've already had my heart torn out by losing someone I love. If I lose either one of them, I can't survive. There will be no more me anymore at all. Do you understand?" she said, her voice quivering. Enoch nodded slowly.

"Mama," he said, reaching out a small cold hand to gently wipe away her tears. While he was distracted, Dean set the picture carefully in the bowl, and while Sam muttered the written words on the page, Dean pulled his lighter out and set the bowl's contents ablaze.

A loud, sudden rush of wind swept through the room. All eyes turned as the shining image of a tall, beautiful woman appeared in the doorway to the study. Enoch's grip around Natalie's neck loosened.

"Mama?" he gasped, looking at the apparition. Lydia- the ghost that Sam and Dean summoned- nodded and smiled.

"My sweet boy," she said, extending her wispy gray arms to him. Enoch rushed her, and she scooped him up, pressing him tightly into her. Once the ghost child was in her arms, she seemed to exhale in relief. She looked at all three of the Winchesters.

"Thank you," she whispered simply. She turned to the boy in her arms. "Come, Enoch. It's time to go home." With another rush of wind and a flash of light, mother and son disappeared.

Dean's lungs started working again. He looked over at Sam, who nodded back that he was okay. He turned his gaze towards his daughter, still on her knees in the middle of the room, her arms wrapped tightly around her waist. She was hunched over, almost in half. Her back was shaking with silent sobs.

He waded through the broken glass and got down right next to her. "C'mere, kid. I got you," he said, pulling her into his arms, letting her soak the front of his shirt with her tears.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Later on that night, after they had gotten back to the motel and treated their sliced hands and arms, the three of them sat in close proximity on the motel couch, Natalie in the middle, each of them clutching a beer and laughing.

"You remember how Pops used to make me pancakes all the time? For like, every meal?" Natalie said with a giggle. "I used to think it was all he knew how to make. But he really did it just because I loved them so much."

Sam chuckled back. "I'm pretty sure you lived off of pancakes during your entire year with him. You would fight me so hard when I tried to get you to eat anything else."

Dean took another sip from his beer before speaking. "Hey Sammy- you remember that time Bobby took us outside and taught us how to play catch?"

Natalie turned towards her father. "I didn't know he taught you to do that," she said. Dean nodded.

"Oh yeah. Dad was out on a hunt, and he wanted Bobby to work with us on the double barrels. But instead, he took us to a park, gave me a baseball mitt, and taught me how to catch a grounder." Dean grinned at the memory. "It was awesome." Sam nodded and smiled, remembering the man who had actually remembered that he and Dean had once been children, and had treated them as such in the best way possible.

Natalie leaned her head back against the sofa. "Look. I'm really sorry that I haven't talked about Pops or been avoiding the topic or anything…" she started, but Dean cut her off.

"Kid, everyone grieves differently. You needed to work through it in your own time, and in your own way. Part of bein' human, you know? Although," he said, the teasing tone back in his voice. "If you could do it next time without deciding to make me the foster grandfather to a dead kid, that'd be great."

Natalie chuckled and tilted her head over to rest it on his shoulder. "I'll see what I can do." After another moment, she looked back up into his face. "How did you know that picture would summon Lydia?"

"First off, I didn't. Second off, it wasn't the picture," Dean said, taking another swig of beer. Sam and Natalie's face wrinkled in confusion.

"Then what was it?" Sam asked, perplexed.

Dean swallowed. "The frame. I remember once, way back when we were on a case with a haunted doll, when you said that people in Victorian times used to use locks of their hair to decorate personal stuff. Every picture frame in that house had that weird braided detail around it. I took a shot in the dark that it was her hair. Lucky me," he commented casually before lifting the beer bottle to his lips again.

Natalie's mouth fell open in shock. "That was pure genius," she said, nodding appreciatively.

He grinned down at her. "Where do you think you get it from?" he replied, causing her to giggle. Even Sam chuckled low at that one. All three of them sipped their beers in comfortable silence.

After a moment, Sam turned and looked at his niece. "You gonna be okay, Bug?" he asked gently.

Natalie thought for a moment. She was still hurting from Bobby's death. She knew in her heart of hearts that she would always hurt from it. But as she continued to deal with the grief, the pain would get to a point where she could deal with it without it taking over her life. She now believed what Sam and Dean had been telling her all along- that when it became too much for her to deal with, she didn't have to do it alone. She could talk to them, and they would work through it together.

"Yeah," she replied, a genuine smile on her face as she lifted her beer bottle to her lips, looking exactly like Dean and causing both boys to smile. "Yeah, I will be. I'll be okay."


	69. How Far I'll Go

**Good Morning. You're Beautiful.**

 **I was asked for this scenario early on, but honestly had no idea how to deal with it until a couple months ago. So for those who requested this one, here you go, lol.**

 **Special thanks to my Sammy, Jenmm31. She's got two parts of a three part story on her page about Sam's daughter, Emily. She's a brilliant and talented writer, and if you like my stuff you're going to LOVE this story. Go show her some love and check it out!**

 **Love each other, SPN family.**

 **A/N- in this story, Natalie is 13. Please see profile page for disclaimer.**

Natalie took a deep breath. She looked at her thirteen-year-old self in the cracked motel room mirror. "Okay, Winchester, you got this. No big deal. Just do it." With the echo of her own voice in her ears, she gripped the knob to the motel bathroom's door, twisted it boldly, and walked out into the room. Her uncle and father were currently up to their eyeballs in research, trying to figure out the origin story of the haunted building they were here in this little backwater town to save. Natalie had been working right alongside them, until a more pressing matter got her attention. She knew now what she had to do, but doing it….that was another matter entirely. She needed to ask for something and it wasn't going to be easy.

She tried to walk up to Dean casually. She never noticed before how awkward every step she took was. She tried to slow down, thinking a casual stroll would be less suspicious. She turned slightly to the side, as she felt this gave her an air of supreme disassociation. Placing her hands on her hips seemed too definitive, so she tried crossing them over her chest. When that felt too weird, she dropped them halfway down her sides, but then pulled them back into her chest, feeling that her arms were suddenly as long as a chimpanzee's.

In the middle of her self-imposed life-crisis of walking, Sam looked up to see his niece doing what looked like an uncanny impression of John Wayne. "Um, Bug? You okay?" he asked after staring at her for a moment, trying to figure out what the hell she was doing.

Inwardly cursing herself, Natalie shook off her strange walk, sighed, and just lumbered up to the table normally. "Yeah, I'm fine," she grumbled in response. Dean's eyes hadn't left his laptop until her last statement. They quickly flicked up to Sam's upon hearing Natalie's tone. Sam's eyes briefly caught Dean's. He knew they were thinking the same thing.

Now that Natalie was officially a teenager, she was starting to turn into what they feared most- a teenager. To be specific, a teenage _girl_. The boys had talked about her mood swings and sudden attitudes towards them in private several times.

Sam thought they were getting off easy. Natalie had been more moody lately- but that was to be expected, now that she was thirteen. And her bad moods didn't last that long- maybe an hour, or two if she was really pissed. Sam quietly remembered several times where he was in bad moods for days when he was a teenager. He was reluctant to bring this point up though- mainly to avoid giving Dean any more fodder for calling him a girl.

Dean, however, felt quite differently about Natalie's transformation. He was so used to his little tomboy, his little angel who told him everything and expressed her love for him by playing pranks and giving him attack hugs, that to suddenly be confronted with a moody, secretive teenager was unsettling. He had no idea that she really WASN'T as moody and secretive as the average teen- she was just different from how she normally was.

He was comforted by the idea that she was still just as gung-ho about hunting as he was. She always insisted on helping on each and every case, whether it meant doing research or identifying the strange and random objects they would bring home. She'd even done a few salts and burns, and could rattle off an exorcism faster than Bobby. Dean reveled in this, as, in his mind, it meant that she wouldn't leave him when she got old enough to make those kinds of decisions for herself.

However, now was not the moment to deal with that, Dean told himself. Now was the moment to figure out whatever the hell Natalie was trying to do.

"What's up, squirt?" he asked casually.

"Can…um…can I have ten bucks?"

Dean's eyebrows shot up into his hairline. She had never asked for money before unless they happened to be at an arcade. "What do you want ten bucks for?" he asked, confused.

Natalie shifted from foot to foot. Dean's eyes quickly darted over to Sam again. She was antsy. Never a good thing. This was weird. She finally set her jaw and looked him straight in the eye.

"Just for stuff," she answered evenly. That made Dean snort a little with laughter.

"For stuff, huh?"

She exhaled heavily, suddenly on the defensive. "Yeah, just for stuff," she said, a touch of impatience in her voice. Normally, that would have made his own temper flare itself, but his concern for her overpowered that. She was acting weird, and he didn't like it, so he needed to make her feel better. He couldn't stand the idea of her being upset.

"Calm down there, kiddo. I'm just askin'," he said placating as he reached for his wallet. He withdrew a ten and held it out to her. "Here you go."

Instantly, the frustration fell off her face, and something like relief crossed it. She sighed happily and reached for the money. "Thanks, Dad," she said, her happy go lucky tone back in place.

"Natalie? You okay?" Dean asked, searching her eyes. Now that she was happy again, he felt like he could ask without pissing her off. She looked startled at the question, but then threw on her shit-eating grin.

"Yeah, I'm great. Thanks for the money. I'll pay you back," she said, folding the bill and tucking it into her pocket.

"Don't worry about it," he said, now convinced that something was wrong. He knew that grin- he TAUGHT her that grin. "Kid, if you need something, all you have to do is ask. You know that, right?" he said, looking at her with his piercing green eyes. But she dismissed it with a wave of her hand.

"I know. I just don't want you to have to deal with it while you're working on your case. Did you find anything out about the building yet? I swear there's more than one ghost there," she said, leaning over Dean to look at the website he was on. Dean's eyes sought Sam's once more. Sam just gave an almost imperceptible shrug. He didn't know what was going on with her either, but clearly she didn't want to talk about it any more. Dean decided to try to let it go.

*SPN SPN SPN*

A couple weeks later, after clearing out the haunted building and saving the day, the Winchesters found themselves at Bobby's, restocking, refueling, and researching. Natalie had been tasked with finding them a new case and trying to identify it before they could get there. Dean had been watching her every step, and she was doing great. However, this morning, before they could even crack open the laptops and continue, she approached him again.

"Hey Dad, can I borrow some money?" she asked. Dean didn't even try to hide his confusion this time.

"Again?" he said, a tone of joking masking his concern. "What, you got a bookie on your ass that I don't know about?"

To his relief, that made her chuckle. She shook her head, still smiling. "No, I just wanted to pick up something at the store."

"Just let me know what it is- I'm making a run into town later today, I'll get it for you."

"No!" she answered loudly. That made Dean rear back in surprise. She instantly modified her tone, adopting that casual Dean Winchester inspired grin. "Sorry, got a little excited there. Naw, it's just stupid stuff, I don't want you to have to bother."

"C'mon kid, it's no bother. Just tell me what you need." This time, Dean definitely saw a flicker of impatience cross her face.

"It's just stupid stuff, Dad. Can I please borrow the money?" she asked evenly. Dean wanted to push her on it- it wasn't like her to keep secrets from him- but he didn't want to make her any more upset. He decided to give her a gentle ultimatum.

"Yeah, you can. But next time, you tell me what you need. Kapeesh?"

There was a moment of hesitation. "Sure. Sure, I'll tell you."

"Okay, then," he said, handing over a ten.

*SPN SPN SPN*

A month later, they were back on the road. This time, in Tennessee, with a Tulpa on the loose. One morning, right before they walked out the door, Natalie once again ambushed Dean with a request for money.

"Alright, kid," he said, folding his arms and looking her straight in the eye. "What's going on?"

Natalie immediately folded her arms back, looking like Dean in miniature. "Nothing. I just wanted to hit the store while you guys were gone."

"Yeah, not gonna fly this time. Last time this happened, I told you that you were going to tell me what you needed. Remember that?" he pressed, staring at her. She swallowed hard and averted her gaze. It was clear she hoped he hadn't remembered.

"You…said something like that," she mumbled, not wanting to give in. She stared at the floor, shifting from foot to foot.

"Yeah," Dean said, not letting her off the hook. "C'mon, kid, it's me. Just tell me what you need, I'll get it for you. Okay?" he said, gentler than before. He didn't want to admit it, but this keeping-secrets-from-dad thing was starting to scare him. When she didn't answer, his panic inwardly rose. "Natalie, whatever it is, you can just tell me. Are you hurt?"

"No."

"Do you need something for school?"

"No."

"Are you trying to buy makeup or some crap like that?"

"No! I just…I just want to do it myself, okay?" she asked, finally looking back at him, her eyes pleading. Dean almost gave in- he was a sucker for the puppy dog eyes- but his concern for his daughter kept his resolve firm. He shook his head.

"Nope. You don't wanna tell me, that's just fine," he said, lying through his teeth about it being fine. "But then you don't get the money."

A flash of anger lit up her eyes momentarily. Dean watched, stunned, as his little angel gritted her teeth, nostrils flaring, and crossed her arms even tighter.

"Fine. I don't need your stupid money anyways," she said, turning and stalking off towards the couch where she slept. His temper instantly ignited at her words despite the growing concern gnawing at his insides.

"You better watch your mouth, little girl," he warned, his eyes narrowing as he watched her stomp her way across the room. "You know better than to speak to me like that."

She turned back around. He was expecting more attitude, even her silent treatment. What he wasn't expecting was her eyes to be filled with tears. His jaw would have dropped had he not been frozen in place at her unexpected reaction.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, before sitting down on her couch and curling into the fetal position. Before he could say anything, she pulled one of her books off the floor and cracked it open in front of her face, hiding her from view. Dean wanted to go to her, to force her to talk and tell him what the hell was bothering her, but she clearly just wanted to be left alone. What the hell was wrong with his baby girl?

*SPN SPN SPN*

A couple months passed by, and in that time, Natalie didn't ask for any money. Nor did she give any indication what she had been up to. Sam and Dean had quietly compared notes. She didn't have any new clothing that they could see, or books, or games, or anything. Dean wondered if she was buying snack foods or something, but they never found any wrappers or anything like that in the trash. Since it hadn't really come up again, they grew tired of the same circular conversation with no new information, and dropped it. It hadn't come up again.

One day, while out in the field alone while Dean was scoping out the crime scene, Sam was walking back to the Impala, his hands full of files that he had borrowed from the police station. His cell phone rang abruptly in his pocket. Transferring the files to his left hand, he fished out his phone and checked the caller ID. It wasn't a number he recognized- but it was a local number. Curiosity made him answer.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is this a Mr. Sam Winchester?"

"Yes, it is. Who's calling please?"

"This is Miss Mason- I'm the secretary from Waldon High School. We have a Natalie Winchester here- she says that you're her uncle?"

Out of all the things Sam ever expected to hear, that was among the last. He stammered for a minute before answering. "Uh- yes, yes, that's my niece. Is she….what is she doing there?"

"That's an excellent question, sir," came the terse reply. "I suggest you come get her immediately and maybe we can clear this up."

Completely flabbergasted, Sam had no choice but to aquiest. "Uh, yeah, sure thing, I'm on my way."

*SPN SPN SPN*

Ten minutes later, Sam found himself in the front office of the local high school. He walked up to the reception desk. "Excuse me? Are you Miss Mason?" he asked of the middle-aged woman sitting behind the counter. Her eyes flicked up to the tall, handsome man.

"Yes, I am. Can I help you?" she said, smiling coquettishly. Sam, however, wasn't in the mood to play.

"I'm Sam Winchester," he started, but before he could say anything else, the smile slid off her face.

"Oh," she said, her voice dropping about two octaves. "You're Natalie's uncle."

Almost afraid to admit it, Sam answered tentatively. "Um, yes?"

"She's back here." Without further ado, Miss Mason stood up, pushed her chair away from her desk, and came around to the front of the desk to lead Sam towards the principal's office. She was entirely silent as she furiously stomped her way towards the door. Trying to give the angry woman a wide berth, Sam followed. Miss Mason opened the door without knocking. Sam looked inside, and saw Natalie sitting in a chair against the wall, her arms folded, staring at the floor as if her life depended on it.

Sam had no idea which way to step here. What was Natalie doing in a high school she didn't attend? Since when did she even step foot in a _school_? Why was she in the principal's office? Why had they called him and not Dean? Before he could say anything, the fierce older woman sitting behind the desk in the room stood up.

"Mr. Winchester, I presume?" she asked in a no-nonsense voice. Sam knew immediately this was not a woman to mess with. "I'm Principal Trostli. Please, have a seat." She indicated the chair in front of her desk. With a quick glance to his right at his niece, he sat down, completely stupefied.

"Is…is there a problem?" he asked tentatively. Principal Trostli's mouth set in a firm, thin line.

"If you count a minor who is not a student at our school sneaking onto school property, then yes. There's a problem," she answered in a perfectly flat tone. Sam's eyes widened, and he looked over again at Natalie to try to figure out what was going on. But she was still resolutely staring at the floor, offering no explanation.

"I'm so sorry, I had no idea she was sneaking onto your campus. How long has she been doing this for?" he asked.

"Only today- as far as we can deduce. She made her way to the nurse's office, but once we discovered that she wasn't a student, we brought her in here immediately," the principal answered crispy.

"Wh-why was she in the nurse's office? Natalie," Sam said as he turned back to her, instantly worried. "Are you sick?"

"She's not sick, but she won't tell us why she was there," Principal Trostli said, interrupting. Sam's eyes darted back to her, then back at his niece. Natalie just folded her arms tighter against her chest and kept her mouth shut. "Now, I could press charges against her for trespassing on school property," the principal added, a tone of force in her voice. Out of his periphery, Sam saw Natalie fidget uncomfortably. He held out his hands in surrender to try to stop that idea immediately.

"Please, that won't be necessary," he said, trying to keep his panic out of his voice. "I'll take her off property now, and I can guarantee she'll never do this again. I am so sorry," he added, just wanting to escape the suffocating atmosphere in here.

Principal Trostli nodded once, savagely. "See that she doesn't. Next time, I'll call the police first before I call you."

Sam swallowed hard. "Understood. Again, I'm so sorry," he said, standing up. "Natalie," he growled at his niece, his temper getting the better of him. "Let's go." She immediately stood up to follow him, her gaze never leaving the floor. Sam thought about making her apologize, but he knew her temper was flaring right now, and he could see her easily shooting off her mouth and getting them both arrested. He put one firm hand on her shoulder and steered her out of the office, past the sniffing and judgmental secretary and into the parking lot. He could feel Natalie's anger and stiffness falling away the further they got from the office.

Neither one of them spoke until they got to the car. Once she had dropped into the passenger seat and closed the door however, Sam turned and started in on her.

"What the hell was that?!" he yelled at her. She sunk a little lower in her seat, her arms still tightly crossed. "You wanna tell me why you snuck into a public school- into a nurse's office- in broad daylight?!" He waited for an answer, but she just kept her lips shut as she gazed at her knees. He threw the car into reverse and backed out of the parking lot. As he pulled onto the road, he looked at her once more quickly. She clearly had no intention of talking.

"I'm assuming you gave them my number so you wouldn't have to tell you dad about this little stunt?" he asked, trying to tone down his voice.

"Yes," she finally admitted in a small voice.

"Well, then you better tell me what the hell you were doing in there, young lady."

"Please, Uncle Sam, I can't," she said, her voice still lifeless and flat.

"You mean you won't."

"Come on, I won't do it again. Okay? Can we just drop it? Please?"

"Are you kidding? Natalie, you nearly got the cops called on you today. That would have meant that social services would have gotten involved, not to mention you'd have a police record at the age of thirteen. No, we cannot 'drop it'."

"Look, I know it was stupid. Punish me all you want, okay? Just trust me, I won't do it again."

"What were you doing? I want to know."

"I….I don't want to talk about it."

"Well, you're gonna."

"No, I'm not."

"Then I'm telling your father."

Sam saw Natalie's horrified face swing towards his. "You wouldn't."

"You bet your ass I will."

"Come on. Please. I'll do anything. Just don't tell Dad."

"Then tell me what you were doing there."

Sam saw Natalie look down at her lap and breath hard twice. She finally answered as if it were painful. "Please. Please don't make me tell you."

Even though it twisted his heart, he had to know. He shook his head. "No deal." He watched out of the corner of his eye as Natalie folded her arms back over her stomach and pulled her knees into her chest- her classic position for when she knew she was in deep trouble. Neither one of them could think of anything more to say all the way back to the motel.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Fifteen grueling minutes later, Natalie was still curled up with her knees tucked into her chest, but this time, she was seated on the couch in the motel room, with an furiously angry father and uncle in front of her. She hadn't spoken a word since they arrived back at the hotel, so it had been up to Sam to fill Dean in. The reaction had been instant and earth shattering. Dean had been shouting for the last five minutes, and it was clear he had no intention of letting up now.

"So let me get this straight," he said, smoke pouring out from his ears as he paced back and forth in front of his daughter. "You snuck onto a high school campus, into the nurse's office, got caught, almost got the cops called on you, called YOUR UNCLE instead of me, and you still think you got a good reason for keeping your trap shut about whatever the hell it was you were trying to pull?!" he roared. He saw his daughter shudder once from the onslaught, but keep her mouth closed tightly. He had been screaming at her practically since he'd gotten back to the motel, but he was no closer to figuring out what she had done than Sam had been. Instead of the answer he felt like he should be getting, Natalie simply set her jaw, determined to wait the Dean Tsunami out.

Finally, he snapped. The anger in his voice was masking the bigger concern- the fear he felt. She was now sneaking around behind his back, getting into all sorts of trouble, almost getting thrown into juvie- _Wish she hadn't taken after me there,_ he thought angrily to himself- and still wasn't telling him what was going on. This wasn't his Natalie. This wasn't his little girl any longer. He was out of options. He played the only card left in his hand.

"Fine. Then tomorrow, we're heading straight for South Dakota."

Natalie's head shot up at that. "For home?" she asked, breaking her silence.

"Yup."

"Why?"

"I'm leaving you at Bobby's."

"WHAT?!"

"You're gonna pull this kind of shit, endanger yourself like this? I'm not dealing with it, Natalie. I'm not putting up with it. You choose to behave this way, these are the consequences." Dean put his hands on his hips, trying to look stern and betray the deep chasm that had opened in his heart, saying those words. He glared down at his daughter, trying to be unforgiving.

Suddenly, without warning, her wide, fearful green eyes overflowed. She dropped her face into her hands, sobbing her heart out. Dean looked at Sam, who was looking just as thunderstruck. Neither of them moved while she cried- they had no idea what to do. Finally, she managed to choke out.

"I give up. I'll….I'll tell you, okay? Please. I'll tell you," she said, gasping and hiccupping. "Just don't abandon me at Pops, okay? Please," she sobbed, before she couldn't speak any longer.

"Okay," Dean said, hating himself for what he had just done, but relieved that she was going to tell him. "Start talking."

Natalie swallowed hard and rubbed her knuckles into her red eyes. That didn't help- it reminded Dean of when she was a baby. She used to rub her knuckles into her eyes to stop the tears. He could hear his heart tear in two pieces at that, but he couldn't back down- not when she had endangered herself so much and he had finally broken her resolve to keep silent. She finally caught her breath enough to speak. She made herself uncurl, dropping her feet to the ground. She twisted her hands in her lap and addressed them.

"I snuck into the school for….supplies," she mumbled quietly.

"For supplies?" Sam interjected.

"Like- what? Pencils? New books? What did you want?" Dean pressed. "And why the hell didn't you just ask me for them?"

Natalie shook her head. "Not those kind of supplies."

"Like bandages? Or medicine? Was that why you were in the nurse's office? Bug, we've got everything right here you could need," Sam said, trying to get to the bottom of things. But Natalie shook her head.

"No, it's…."

"What, Natalie?" Dean said, his temper getting the better of him again. The tears poured down Natalie's face again, dropping onto her clenched hands.

"Like….girl supplies," she finally stammered out, barely loud enough to be heard, completely avoiding eye contact.

"Girl supplies?" Dean repeated, totally confused. "What does that…" A sudden movement from Sam caught his eye. He looked over at his brother. "What?" he mouthed at him, not wanting to break the moment. Sam was staring at him like it should have been obvious. Dean shook his head, not understanding. Sam finally heaved a sigh and mouthed the answer.

"She started her period."

Dean's mouth dropped open in shock. His gaze whipped back to his daughter, who was still clutching her hands in her lap and sobbing her heart out. All of the sudden, the mood swings and surly attitudes fell into a time line for him. They were happening- about once a month. At the same time each month. She was…because she had….

"Ohhhhhh," Dean said, the pieces of the puzzle finally falling into place. He instantly felt horrible for what he had said. He dropped down on the couch next to her. He wanted to put his arm around her and pull her in tight, but he was afraid that would just make her more upset.

"Nat," he said, his tone completely different from before. "Why didn't you just tell me?" he said gently.

She gave a great shuddering sob, and dropped her face into her hands again, losing herself at Dean's quiet tone. "Because you'd freak out and I didn't want to make you upset," she managed to get out. Sam took that as his cue to sit down on the other side of her and start gently rubbing her back.

"Bug, how could you think that we'd freak out? It's not like we didn't know this was coming," Sam said soothingly. "It's okay. It's nothing to be ashamed of. It's part of growing up."

"I'm not ashamed of it. I just don't want to talk about it."

"Why?"

She refused to look up. "Because you guys freak out over anything too girly. And I thought I could handle this on my own. I'm freaking strong enough to deal with this shit, but I just messed up and now I've…." She couldn't continue. She started sobbing harder than ever before. Sam's heart was breaking too much to scold her for swearing. And Dean, feeling like the worst father in the world, couldn't take it any longer. He reached over, pulled her into his chest, and let her cry. He rested his cheek against the top of her head and just held her. Soothed as always by his touch, Natalie finally let loose and cried herself out. Once she finally calmed down enough, he spoke.

"Baby Girl, listen," he said. "I'm sorry you felt like you couldn't tell me. I, uh, I know that's my fault. I've…not always been the easiest person to talk to about this kind of stuff," he said, his voice strained. "But you listen to me. This is nothing to be ashamed of, and it's nothing that you should have to be trying to figure out all by yourself, okay? If you…if you want to keep gettin' your….supplies by yourself, that's okay. I'll give you the money, okay? You don't need to hide it from me, and you don't need to pay it back or whatever crap that was. You just need to tell me. I need you to tell me," he said, almost pleading. That made her cry even harder. Dean was terrified that he'd upset her even more, but she calmed down quickly.

"I wanted to tell you," she said, sniffling. "I hated not telling you, but I just thought that you'd be so grossed out and uncomfortable that I didn't want to put you through that. You remember when we had 'The Talk'?" she asked, looking Dean right in the eyes. The sudden and awkward look on his face was all she needed to see to prove her point. "I've never seen you so uncomfortable in your life, and I just didn't want to put you through that again." Dean shook his head, suddenly grinning.

"You were so concerned for my feelings that you snuck onto public property to steal tampons from a school you don't go to so you didn't have to tell me?" he said, a dry humor in his voice. At that, Natalie let out a watery giggle.

"Well, when you say it like that, it sounds ridiculous," she admitted, causing Sam to chuckle, too. The tension in the room released.

*SPN SPN SPN*

An hour later, after Natalie had mopped herself up and been assured beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was not being taken to Bobby's, Dean took a stroll alone. He needed to clear his head- and take care of a few things.

"Okay, Winchester," he mumbled to himself. "You got this. No big deal. Just do it."

*SPN SPN SPN*

Dean walked back into the motel room, and made a beeline straight for his daughter who was sitting at the table with Sam, working on her homework. He thrust a plastic drug store bag towards her.

"Here," he said. "This is for you." Natalie took the bag and opened it. Inside were a box of tampons and a package of pads. She looked up, shocked, at her father. He thrust his hands into the pockets of his jacket and looked back at her with a smile.

"I don't know if that's the right kind, but that's what the saleslady suggested."

Natalie's mouth dropped open. "You...you asked someone for help?" she said faintly, disbelieving it. "For…this?"

Dean shrugged. "Of course I did. You're the most important thing in my life. You have no idea how far I'll go for you." Before he could get the rest of his speech out, Natalie dropped the bag and raced into his arms.

He didn't need to finish the speech. She already knew the rest of it anyways.


End file.
